Hunters: Dare To Dream
by BlazeorFade
Summary: Sixth in the Hunters Series. The Hunters go on vacation and fall prey to the supernatural. They just can't catch a break can they?
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Hunters: Dare To Dream**

**Author: BlazeorFade**

**Rating: T**

**Summary: The Hunters try to go on vacation but fall prey to a spell.**

**Disclaimer: They own me not the other way around.**

**AN: John is in this one! And I'm going to try and give my boys and girl some laughs before things get blown o bits. I've been too hard on them lately.**

**Prologue**

"Dad. Dad will you let me talk?" Dean asked in frustration, trying to get John's attention over the yelling on the other end of the line.

"What Dean? You want to tell me why you stopped hunting? Go right ahead." John said sarcastically. Dean took a deep breath. He knew his dad wouldn't take the idea of a vacation well.

"We need a break. Jack can barely walk, Sam is in bad shape and I'm not doing to great either." Dean said.

"Evil doesn't take a break Dean. Do you think its going to wait for you guys to feel like going back to work. Its not." John said.

"I know that dad!" Dean hissed into the phone. Sam and Jack were asleep in the motel room and he was right outside the door. He didn't to wake them by getting into a shouting match with his father. Unfortunately the door opened behind him, letting him know he'd failed. Sam stood in the doorway with an eyebrow raised in question.

'Who's on the phone?' He mouthed. Dean mouthed back 'Dad' and Sam cringed. This was a conversation they'd all dreaded in the hours since Dean had come up with the vacation idea. Jack sat up in the bed and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

"Dad, I called to tell you we were taking a break. Not to ask your permission." Dean said. He held his breath expecting an angry tirade from his father.

"Dean stop this, I have a job for you." John said completely dismissing what Dean said.

"No." Dean said simply. He walked into the room so that Sam would close the door. He didn't need anyone catching cold on top of everything else.

"What did you say?" John asked in a tight voice that meant he was monumentally pissed.

"I said no dad. No jobs till we're all back 100 percent." Dean said. "You told me to take care of them and I am. We need a break we've been going for months straight one job after another."

"And doesn't that tell you something. Damnit Dean. More things are happening every day, this is not the time to slack off." John said. "Now I have a job for you to do. This is an order Dean."

"Give it to someone else dad." Dean said and hung up the phone. Even he looked bewildered at his behavior.

"You hung up on dad." Sam said sharing a wide eyed look with Dean.

"I know." Dean said in shock.

"Am I awake?" Jack asked. She put her feet on the ground and tried to stand and abruptly fell back into bed with a wince. She squeaked out. "I'm awake."

"What are the odds of him shooting me with rock salt next time he sees me?" Dean asked looking at his phone.

"High. He'll probably splash holy water on you first just in case." Sam said musingly.

"So we head out tomorrow." Dean said shaking his head. "Find a place to do this." Sam started laughing.

"What?" Dean asked.

"You're talking like this is a mission or something. Its a vacation Dean." Sam said grinning.

"Yeah, well its gonna take the same kinda research so it might as well be a mission." Dean said defensively.

Sam shrugged and nodded. That was true. They didn't know what to do with real time off. Usually they vegged out for a couple days in a motel room. Dean said this was supposed to be a real vacation though. A totally foreign concept.

"So we're boldly going where no Winchester had gone before?" Jack asked laughing. She was feeling a little loopy from her pain meds and the image of Dean leveling his shotgun at the whole concept of vacation while Sam typed away on the laptop doing his research thing, was making her laugh hysterically.

"Okay no more Seconal for you." Dean said pointing at her. This just made her laughing harder. Sam started giggling. Fucking Giggling! Dean stared at them both and went to look at their prescription bottles to make sure neither had doubled their own dose while he wasn't looking. He wouldn't suspect Sam of doing that but Jack was a bad influence on his little brother. Everything looked alright.

"Vicodin rules." Jack said laying back against the pillows. Dean looked between them and dug for the stolen Vicodin from the hospital awhile back. Sure enough it was short a few.

"You did mix meds!" Dean exclaimed.

"Just needed an extra kick." Jack said. Her stomach hurt from laughing but it was so worth it.

"Oh you'll get an extra kick alright." He growled.

"Sammy! Protect me!" Jack laughed. Sam fell back on his bed biting his lip to keep quiet. It wasn't working.

"We're a bad influence on you Sam." Dean said reprimanding his little brother for something he would do in a heartbeat.

"Poor thing," Jack said grinning at Sam, "You've fallen in with a bad crowd."

"Nu-uh. This is a one time thing." Sam said.

"Come to the dark side Sam." Dean said giving up the pretext of scolding t hem and popping a pill into his mouth. Those cuts hurt like a bitch.

"We have cookies." Jack added, starting another round of giggles.

Dean was starting to think this vacation deal had been his best idea yet.

**TBC…..**

**AN: Muhahahaha! New story peoples. I just couldn't resist having Jack-Jack corrupt innocent(not) Sammy. Humour, Angst, Magic, John cameos and Cookies to come. Stay tuned.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Y'all know I only write the disclaimer anymore to up my word count. I'm so weird. Anywhore, I own nothing, just Jack (I just had a Will and Grace flashback).**

She didn't want to close her eyes. Every time she did for more than a minute she was right back in the room, being blind folded and shoved inside that closet. Funny how that was worse to her than being tortured physically. So Jack forced herself to stay awake long after the boys fell asleep, sitting in the chair in front of the door with a gun in her hand. She was shaking and nauseous from exhaustion and she's palmed her latest dose of painkillers so she wouldn't feel groggy. In spite of her efforts she found herself dozing.

_Jack opened her eyes and she was in the middle of the cabin tied to that chair._

_'No this isn't right. They got me out.' She thought to herself looking around her._

_"No they didn't." Brian said appearing in front of her. He moved to the side and she saw Dean dangling from the ceiling by his arms. He was beaten worse than she was. His bottom lip was split wide open and there a long gash on his face from his right eye to his chin. Fuck-his eye…sonuvabitch._

_"You bastard, you fucker!" She roared fighting to get out of her chair. _

_"His brother was a little easier. Sam fought like bitch, but all I had to tell Dean was that I'd kill you and he was nice and gentle." Brian said and the work table came into focus. Sam was chained down, too still. Way to still. His chest wasn't moving and he had symbols carved into his chest._

_Somehow Jack wasn't in her chair anymore, she ran forward and fell to her hands and knees, blood erupting from her nose and mouth._

_"L-leave them alone." She sobbed._

_"Too late." Brian said._

_"How many people are going to die because of you?" Dean's voice asked. She looked up to see him looking down at her with one dead eye. _

_"How many?" Sam asked form his place._

_"Jack!" A voice said._

_"Jack wake up!"_

"Jack wake up!" Sam was holding Jack by her shoulders, trying to get make her stop thrashing. Her eyes were wide open but she wasn't awake. A night terror.

The gun in her hand was what worried him. Dean gabbed her hand and pressed on a pressure point in her wrist till she dropped the gun into his hand. She snapped up, looking around her.

"What happened?" She asked hoarsely. That made sense since she'd been screaming bloody murder,

"You were having a night terror." Sam said soothingly. He searched her face in the half light. He couldn't distinguish the what was there but he knew it wasn't good.

"What happened?" He asked her. He put his hand behind her back to try and comfort her but she flinched and he pulled back a little hurt.

"You were saying 'leave them alone'. Leave who alone?" Dean asked her. He had a sneaking suspicion what the nightmare was about.

"Don't remember." Jack said feebly. She strained to remember what happened but it was like one minute she was trying to stay awake and the next Sam and Dean were in front of her.

"You can tell us Jack." Sam said.

"I don't remember." Jack rasped rubbing her eyes practically grinding them with the heels of her hands.

Sam opened his mouth but Dean put his hand on his shoulder and shook his head. He jerked his chin towards the door next to Jack. Sam nodded and stood up. Jack's tensed in her chair when Sam put his hand on the door knob.

"Just going outside for a second." Sam said. Jack narrowed her eyes at him, there was the Jack he knew.

"I didn't cry." Jack said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"He said I was pretty when I cry, but I never cried." Jack said fixing him with a hard look.

"We know that." Sam said giving a crooked smile that faltered almost instantly. Jack nodded and looked away.

She knew she was fucking up. She had to get her head back on straight. It was easier sometimes. Sometimes? She scoffed at herself. She'd been free less than a week. If it was anyone else she'd cut some slack, but she was supposed to be tougher than this. When she fully awake during the day she'd be fine but once she closed her eyes, all bets were off.

Sam waited for Dean to start talking but his brother was scrubbing his hand over his face and doing a two step pacing that showed how worried he really was.

"What do you remember about being in Jack's head?" Dean asked surprising Sam.

"Um, I remember her grandmother's house and this weird apartment like place that kept changing and her uncle." Sam replied. "Why what do you remember?"

"Stuff from the bad times." Dean said vaguely. Sam opened his mouth and closed it. Dean saw her time on the streets? Why the hell didn't he say anything before all this?

"I didn't see things clearly, it didn't make sense at first. Still doesn't sometimes." Dean said reading his thoughts.

"I don't know how to make this alright." Dean said looking down at his bare feet. They were still dressed for bed.

Sam wanted to be able t o say something, Dean rarely admitted something like this. He looked lost, the way he sometimes did when Sam closed off after a vision. Like he was helpless to take care of things.

"We'll make it alright Dean." Sam said. He didn't know how or when but he knew they would.

"The vacation thing, its good, should've done it after that thing with you." Sam continued. Funny, he thought, the words they came up with to talk about the things they didn't talk about. Like 'when Jack was sleeping' or 'that Tucson incident'. Thinking about these times was a knife in their collective gut. Sam hated that other people always took the brunt of the pain.

The door opened behind them and Jack poked her head out, dangling precariously on the edge of her chair so her feet didn't have to touch the ground. She looked concernedly at them.

"No one gone missing yet right?" She joked weakly.

"Naw, not before eight." Dean said. "I need some coffee."

"I second that." Jack said, glad to fall into the usual routine even if the sun wasn't up yet.

"Don't think anything's open." Sam said.

"There's always something open Sam." Dean said." You two stay here while I get us some caffeine."

"Take your gun." Jack said out of reflex.

"You have a gun kink don't you." Dean said walking into the room with Sam behind him. He tried not to think that she looked like a zombie.

"Is it that obvious?" Jack asked arching her eyebrow. It was cut down the center, almost coming across her eyelid, still black and blue.

"Lemme check your stitches Jack?" Sam asked. He was worried that something might have come loose during the struggle.

"Yeah, yeah Samantha." Jack said pressing her gun into Dean's hand before letting Sam start removing the gauze to get to her stitches.

Dean pulled out a pair of semi-clean jeans and a t-shirt retreating to t he bathroom to get dressed. He didn't glance at his reflection, just tucked the gun at his back and jacked his shirt down over it. He could have taken his own gun with him when he left but it seemed important to take Jack's gun, just like when Sam passed him the cell phone on his way out he didn't say he was just going for coffee. He closed the door behind him, ignoring t he nagging feeling t hat he didn't want to leave them alone. Yeah, they definitely needed some down time.

Sam carefully unwrapped the gauze from the stitches that burst on her right forearm. The stitches traced out perfectly the perverse symbols of the ritual. He cleared his throat and willed his hands steady enough to pour the antiseptic and fresh gauze and clean the freshly opened wound. His rage startled him, to the point of being frightening. He wanted so badly to be able to pull that trigger again, to kill Brian again.

"You don't remember anything?" Sam asked to break the silence as he cleaned Jack's arm carefully.

"From my dream? No." Jack said. Sam nodded because he didn't know what else to do.

"You alright Sam?" She asked.

"I'm good." He replied. "I have to re-stitch this. I'll try to be careful." Jack nodded.

She told herself to keep still was Sam dug out the thread and needle. This was going to hurt. The skin around the wound, and everywhere else on her for that matter, was badly bruised. She'd needed morphine to have the original stitches put in.

"Here." Sam said softly. Jack looked at his hand that held two painkillers. He balanced a water bottle, the needle and thread in the other hand.

"You'd make a great nurse." Jack said grinning. She tossed the pain pills in the air and caught them in her mouth one after the other.

"Should join the circus." Sam said pulling up the only other chair in the room so he could have easier access. He handed her the water.

"Naw," Jack swallowed a mouthful, "I don't like clowns." Sam shook his head and reached for her arm.

* * *

Dean was twitching like a fucking addict as he waited in line to pay for three cups of coffee at the local 7-11. He wanted to g et back to the room, to have Jack and Sam in his sight at all times. He juggled the Styrofoam cups in their holder so he could reach for his phone. He opened it and closed it, telling himself to get a grip. They were fine. He rationalized keeping his phone out by checking h is messages. Five from his father, no doubt tearing Dean a new one. He didn't have the energy for that and one from Madeleine. He clicked that one and listened.

"Dean, why hasn't Jack answered her phone in two weeks? Is something wrong? Is she alright? I have a feeling she's gotten herself into trouble. You better call me Winchester. Cause the next person I'm calling is Missouri if I can't reach you." Madeleine had no doubt left a similar message on Sam's voice mail and he was willing to bet good money that the woman had filled Jack's inbox with her worry.

Dean smiled and texted her one handed that they'd had a snag(snag? What the hell? He was spending way too much time with Sam) and that they were alright. He sympathized with the woman, he really did. She worried about Jack like she was her own. He expected a call from Missouri, as the message had been sent sometime the day before, while they were still at the hospital. Glossing over with her would be tougher seeing as she knew exactly what they did and wouldn't take a half truth from him. He was not going to tell her about the vacation idea. Then she'd insist on them coming to Lawrence and he couldn't be that close to their old house. Not after the emotional b.s. of the past few weeks. Now way no how.

Dean fought with himself to pocket the phone. They were fine, no need to call them. They were fine. The man in front of him finally finished buying enough liquor to put him in a month long coma and Dean was able to pay for the coffee. Back in the Impala he was wound tight, navigating the road to get to the motel. He never thought he'd be so relieved to get into one of their crappy don't-ask-don't-tell rooms. But he was and the time it took for Sam to answer the door felt too long.

"Fifteen minutes, we were about to put out an alert." Jack teased. She was winding a fresh bandage around her arm and the table was covered in bloody gauze and a needle and thread.

"Can't put an alert out on a dead man." Dean said absently.

"Stitches needed some re-doing." Sam explained taking the coffee from Dean and kicking the door closed behind him.

"So where are we going?" Dean asked sitting on the edge of his bed. He took a long gulp of the black coffee shaking away the last edges of sleep.

"Lawrence? Missouri would take us in." Sam suggested. Dean closed his eyes took a deep breath and shook his head.

"Why?" Sam asked.

"No Sam." Dean growled. Sam looked at him and started cleaning up t he make shift medical kit.

"We're not far from Alabama, you think Billie would mind putting us up for a few days?" Dean asked Jack. She yawned and sipped at her coffee. She cringed and Dean pulled out a few sugar and cream packs from his pocket, tossing them on the table. She nodded her thanks and started fixing the coffee.

"No, he'd mother hen me to death. He gives you a run for your money in that department." Jack added smirking at Dean as she took another sip, then a longer drink.

"I don't mother hen." Dean said indignantly. Sam snorted, pointedly ignoring the glare Sam shot at him.

"Shut up." Dean said even though he hadn't said anything.

"Bobby's?" Sam asked.

"Naw, dad would be there in half a minute telling us to get back to work." Dean said in annoyance.

"Great so we're homeless." Jack said.

"We're always homeless, now we just know it." Sam said. He gulped down half his coffee in one pull and sat down in his chair.

They were silent for a moment, thinking. Dean looked up suddenly and smacked himself in the forehead.

"Well that was fun but what happened?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"I did a job a couple years back and the guy, said if I ever needed anything to call." Dean said. He pulled out his phone and dug through for the number hoping when he found it, that it was still in service.

"Does he have an extra house or something?" Sam asked.

"Yup, rich guy, his fucking poodle was possessed." Dean snickered at t he memory. Those damn things were vicious little bitches when they were normal."So you're going to beg us a place to stay from a stranger?" Jack asked.

"Hell yes, this job does have some perks." Dean grinned. He found the guy's number and dialed, waiting as it rang. When the guys voice mail came on Dean grinned.

"Hey Mark, this is Dean Winchester, remember me?" Dean asked.

**TBC…….**

**AN: Ahhh! What am I crazy? I've just signed up to do Nation Novel Writing Month this year. 50k words in one month, starting November 1st. Don't worry I'm still going to write my fanfics, I'm just going to run myself into the ground doing both. Wish me Luck!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own Jack, that's enough for now. No wait its not. I want Sam and Dean!**

Two days later they were in the car headed for Mark the (formerly) possessed poodle owner's summer home in northern Massachusetts. Jack regarded Dean with suspicion when he told her where they were headed. She then went on MapQuest to find a route there without passing through Boston. Sam argued it would take longer to drive around the city. His face was closed off and she just knew that telling them the name of the one of the cities she'd turned tricks in was a mistake.

They drove through Boston.

Dean watched Jack subtly as they passed through the city that was home to such crap memories. She kept her expression carefully blank, as though it didn't effect her in the least. Sam's jaw was clenched tight, his e yes scanning outside the passenger side window, looking for men with signs on their backs that said "I solicited oral sex from an underage hooker calling him(her)self Eric three years ago". Dean didn't think he would find someone to hurt that easily. And he wasn't sure he wanted to look for them either. A part of him, a big part of him, did. He knew Sam was itching for revenge, when wasn't he? But pressing Jack for anything else about that time wasn't happening.

He didn't even stop for gas till they were out of the city and running on fumes. Jack gave him a slight nod in gratitude that was the only acknowledgement that something was off. Sam groused about needing to stretch his legs for the last twenty miles, grabbed the battered pair of crutches and got out of the car to pay while Dean pumped.

"Dean." Jack called poking her head out the window. Dean hung back, turning back to her expectantly.

"Don't kill anyone." Jack said with a serious as death expression on her face. Dean paused watching the sun glint off the chrome on the Impala. He could feel Jack watching him intently.

"I won't." Dean finally said.

"I mean it, I don't need to be avenged or some crap like that and I can't post bail if you guys get arrested." Jack tacked on with a small smile.

"Not gonna pretend I don't want to, but now's not the time." Dean told her.

"Tell Sam to stop looking." She said.

"Oh right, cause Sam's so great at taking orders." Dean snorted. Sam came out of t he gas station with a bag of food in hand. Dean glanced at him then back at Jack.

"I'll talk to him." He said tapping on the hood. Dean walked round the car to start pumping the gas.

"Breakfast?" Jack asked when Sam opened his door and slid into the front seat.

"Only if you count Doritos and butterfingers as breakfast." Sam said passing the paper bag full of junk food back to her.

"Breakfast." She said digging through for a chocolate bar.

"Eat something." Jack said tossing a Snickers bar at Sam. He'd hardly eaten in the past couple of days.

"Not that hungry." Sam said.

"My ass." Jack said giving him a you're-an-idiot look. He gave an exaggerated sigh and opened the candy eating half of it in one bite. He mumbled a mouthful of something that sounded like 'Happy now?'

"Ecstatic, darling. You made my day." Jack said cheerfully. He mumbled something else and she threw a wrapper at his head.

"Hey, quit making a mess in my baby." Dean called irritably from outside. Sam responded by tossing a wrapper back at Jack and smiling innocently at his brother.

"Saw that bitch." Dean said pulling the pump out and replacing it before getting back in the car, glaring daggers at Sam.

"She started it." Sam accused pointing at Jack.

"She started it." Dean imitated in a whiny voice. He knocked Sam upside the head and raised an eyebrow at Jack when she laughed.

"Don't think you're getting off easy. I'm just waiting till you won't bust a stitch to kick your ass." Dean informed her.

"That's not much incentive for me to get better." Jack pointed out.

"You will, even if I have to force feed you your pills." Dean threatened in a light tone.

"Then who's going to patch you up when you bust your stitches?" Jack asked.

"Sammy." Dean said confidently.

"Nu-uh. You just hit him, he's one my side, aren't you Sam?" Jack asked.

"I plead the fifth." Sam replied.

"That's lawyer talk for he's guilty and doesn't want to answer me." Jack clarified.

"I know what it means. It means he doesn't want to hurt your feelings by saying he's on my side" Dean said grabbing a bag of m&m's Jack offered up to him.

"This must be why you guys got divorced." Sam joked.

"We have joint custody of you Sam." Dean said. He started the ignition and turned Dream On as high as it would go. He snuck a look at his brother. He was in better spirits but it was strained. Dean hoped he could relax without any visions for the next few days, if he had one, Sam would want to rush off to save whoever it was about, wounds or not. That would kind of defeat the purpose of this little endeavor.

"Watch the road dude." Sam said turning to him with a quizzical expression.

"Right." Dean said turning his attention back to the road. Another hour or so and they'd be at the secluded little house and then he could stop worrying about the two most important people in the car with him disappearing before his eyes. He could relax knowing nothing would have at them while they were there. He'd make damn sure of that.

* * *

The house bigger than most of the motel rooms they'd stayed in all put together.

"Fucking rich people." Dean breathed. "This guy lives here maybe a couple weeks a year and he lives alone. What's he need all this space for?"

"People just aren't practical. This place is gonna be a bitch to set up the runes and salt down." Jack said frowning in disapproval. She lowered her feet gingerly to the ground, determined to get out of the car and into the house with no help.

"Of course most normal people don't have to do things like that, but whatever." Sam said bitterly.

"Don't say that word Sam. You know I hate it." Dean said pursing his lips. He made to put an arm around Jack's waist to pick her up.

"No." She said smacking his hand away.

"You can't walk on your own you'll tear out more stitches." Dean said rubbing the red mark on his hand.

"I'll be fine." Jack insisted.

"Don't make me throw you over my shoulder." Dean warned.

"I just want to do this myself." Jack told him clenching her fist that wasn't in a cast. "I feel like friggin invalid here."

"Don't be stupid." Dean said forcing his arm under her arm remembering to soften his grasp when she winced. Damn ribs.

"You suck." Jack grimaced as he hauled her to her feet.

"Yeah, I know." Dean said.

Against her will Dean helped Jack up the porch steps and into the house while Sam got t heir bags out of the trunk. Inside the furniture was all covered in drop cloth to keep things dust free. They'd already decided to stay on the ground floor bedrooms seeing as how two of them couldn't handle the stairs and they'd be too far away from each other up there for comfort. Dean put Jack down on a couch in one of the living rooms and went back outside to bring in the weapons from the trunk. He wanted this place armed to t he teeth, tighter than the fucking Pentagon. He nodded to Sam to go take a seat by Jack and got to work.

Dean armed the security system Mark had told him the combination to, not that it would keep anything they fought out. He lined the front door before Sam took the can from him and told him that he'd do t he bottom level. Jack practically crawled to each and every window on the bottom floor, drawing the runes on the panes. She shot a death glare at Dean when he tried to make her sit still. Dean moved on to the second level, running through the usual routine up there. He repeated it on the third floor and the attic too. It took forever.

Back on the first level, Sam started placing the weapons around the house. Hiding a sawed off shotgun under the coffee table in the living room closer to where the bedrooms were, knives under the kitchen table at three of the seating places and handguns in the drawers in the front foyer and other rooms he thought they'd be spending a lot of time. Dean helped him after he came back and after much whining Jack was brought into the bedrooms they'd each be staying in to help place weapons strategically around the rooms. It didn't bode well with Dean that they'd be sleeping in three different bedrooms but he tried not to dwell on it too much. The rooms were right next door to one another anyway, so it was alright.

'Yeah right', Dean thought to himself, putting his knife under the pillow in his room. 'Maybe if you tell yourself that enough you'll believe it.'

**TBC……..**

**AN: Ugh I always seem to go through a period where I feel like things are just taking too long to get to where I want the story to go. Promise to get to the goods soon. Hopefully in the next chapter or so.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Nope I only own Jack-Jack.**

For dinner Dean made his specialty; canned spaghetti. They ate sitting on the kitchen counters. The dinning room was just too fancy feeling for their taste. It was a rare quiet evening.

"We need to go to town and get some real food tomorrow." Sam said slurping down his noodles. The only thing the house was stocked with were canned goods. Jack yawned and nodded at the same time. Exhaustion was starting to seep in again.

"Did you clean your stitches?" She asked Dean to cover up her tiredness.

"He can't even reach half of them." Sam said rolling his eyes.

"So have one of us do it for you." Jack told Dean. "I promise not to feel you up." She cracked when he pursed his lips.

"In that case, no." He smirked.

Before going to bed Sam brought out the antiseptic and wet down a piece of gauze for himself and for Jack. They didn't speak as they help clean the mangled lines down Dean's back and he stared straight ahead the entire time, hating to need this care but recognizing its necessity. Jack could barely look at the wounds as she smoothed the damp cloth over them gently. Starting at the small of his back and ending at Dean's shoulders six deep gashes had been stitched up enough to keep him from bleeding out. There was no way these would heal without scarring. Her fingers grazed over older white scar tissue on his back from hunts gone by. So many she lost count. It was a grisly business they were in and scars were part of it. Sam caught her eye and looked sorry or a second before guarding his expression. He didn't want Dean to see the emotion in his reflection in the kitchen window. A little yellowish puss managed to escape one of Dean's stitches. The doctors always said that meant it was healing, but Sam never believed them until he saw with his own eyes that things were going to be okay.

* * *

He watched from the shadows, the house that kept the three young hunters. He watched them take car of each other, unaware of his presence then the eldest, Dean, get up from the counter, shrug on his t-shirt and go to the window that he was being watched through. The man had a brief trill of fear, thinking that maybe he'd been caught. The stories about these three made it seem entirely possible, after all weren't two of them psychic? But Dean just glanced out into the empty yard and closed the drapes, impeding the strangers view. All the other windows were already shaded as well.

He wasn't fool enough to try and get in just yet. That wasn't the plan and everything had to go according to plan. No, he would wait patiently and then take them.

* * *

Sleep hadn't been Sam's friend in a long time, maybe it never had. He hadn't had a vision in weeks and he wasn't sure how to feel about that. The last time he went through a dry spell, they'd come back with a vengeance and led him to Jack. He fought back against the tiredness, needing the few quiet moments to sort through his thought processes.

He'd left a short text message on their dad's phone saying t hat t hey were alright. He didn't tell him where they were. John would be pissed enough already.

Sam lay in a bed that for once wasn't too small for him. It was a little odd feeling his legs hit only mattress and not empty air when he rolled over trying to find a comfortable position. Every time he closed his eyes he replayed that night in the snow. He felt the cold air cutting through his injuries as clean as any knife and smelt blood and gun powder in the air. Sometimes when he closed his eyes Dean was holding onto Jack's limp form and they'd come too late. Other times Sam saw the things that were done to her as though he'd been in the room through the whole ordeal.

He turned over in his head what cold make a man go so wrong. How could he have claimed to love someone once and then turn around and do that to them? Easy, he thought, Brian never loved her. He took advantage because he could and when he was found out for what he was he became angry. Anger turned to hate turned to obsession. The wheels in Sam's head rationalized that much and then emotion took care of the rest. Brian was evil, simple as that. Evil for wanting the too young Jack in the first place and evil for the things he did later on. Sam knew that not all evils were supernatural. Some were purely human.

Sam thought of their laptop, turned off and sitting on the dresser in Dean's room. It was so tempting, he was itching to do it. All he'd have to do is slip in, say he wanted to check his e-mail and then do some midnight snooping. Sam bit his lip and reached for the bedside table to steady himself as he drew to his feet. He found the crutches leaning against a wall and bypassed them. He wanted to do this as quietly as possible.

He navigated his way past Jack's room next to his and to his brother's directly across the hall from the two of them. Jack's door was open and Sam peaked in on her just in case. She was curled up on top of the blankets, sleeping fitfully. He went in to cover her with a blanket, Jack hated the cold. He slipped in and back to the doorway quickly. Every now and then she'd jerk in her sleep only to calm seconds later. Sam pushed away from her door frame when he was sure she wasn't having another night terror and went to Dean's door, that was cracked open. He knocked as he pushed the bedroom door open, half expecting Dean to be asleep as well.

Dean looked up from the computer, his face illuminated by the screen, he relaxed when he saw that it was Sam and gestured for him to come in and shut the door. Dean closed the computer and turned on the lamp by the bed.

"I need to use the computer for a minute." Sam said walking further into the room.

"For what?" Dean asked.

"Check my mail." Sam answered.

"You can do that on your Blackberry." Dean said carelessly.

"Can't get a reception." Sam lied and knew the second he said that Dean knew he was lying.

"She doesn't want us to do anything, Sam." Dean told him.

"And you're okay with that?" Sam demanded keeping his voice low.

"No, but she asked me to talk to you. I promised we wouldn't kill anybody." Dean added running a hand through his short hair.

"I wasn't planning on killing anyone, just maybe making an anonymous call or-"

"Maiming someone to the point where they wished they were dead." Dean suggested.

"I don't know. Shit, I don't know Dean." Sam scrubbed his hand over his face and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah me neither." Dean sighed. He patted the laptop. "Looks like we don't have a choice in the matter."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked watching his brother trace the top of the computer. Dean opened the screen back up and showed Sam his disappointing search.

"What's this?" Sam asked, looking at the screen. There were five different internet windows open.

"I ran a search of the local hospitals, for guys with injuries matching the ones Jack might have inflicted on them." Dean explained.

"And?" Sam asked eagerly.

"And its Boston. Do you know how many people live there? Do you know how many people go to the emergency rooms in cities that big? And we don't even know that these guys went to the hospital after that beating." Dean said huffing a frustrated breath.

"What about police records? Solicitation charges?" Sam asked pulling the computer towards him. Dean stopped him.

"I checked. That number is to high too." Dean said. "Maybe we should just let it alone."

"Who are you and where did you put my brother?" Sam asked incredulously.

"C'mon Sam." Dean said in annoyance.

"She's our friend Dean." Sam argued.

"And we can't protect people from the past Sam. Not in this case." Dean told him sternly.

Sam stopped talking and looked down at the coverlet. He worried so much about Dean and Jack. About how they dealt with things by not dealing with them at all. Brushing something aside, pushing it down deep enough to fight another day. He was guilty of that same thing but at least he tried to work past his problems instead of always just forcing them to the side and hoping they didn't come back to bite him in the ass.

"Dean, this isn't the sort of thing you just get over." Sam started. "I mean normal people have to see specialists and talk about what's happened to them."

"We aren't normal Sammy." Dean told Sam, again hating t hat damn word and how Sam always fell back on it in an argument. "She did what she felt she had to do to survive. That's all there is to it."

"When you've seen the things we've seen you learn that it could be a lot worse. That its okay to just be glad you've survived and to string together the better times." Dean fought to get the words right. They were together and still breathing. Why couldn't that be enough for Sam?

"I just want to help." Sam said in a small voice.

"I know man." Dean acknowledged.

"I don't like it." Sam said indignantly.

"Me neither." Dean nodded in agreement. Sam got up to leave and paused at the door.

"Dean you're okay right?" Sam asked with his face to t he door and his hand on the knob.

"I'm always okay." Dean said with a cocky smile that Sam could hear in his voice.

Sam hesitated, trying not to be disappointed. He opened the door and went back to his room favoring his leg as he walked.

Dean waited till the creak of Sam's feet on the hardwood floor stopped. He wouldn't hear the door close because Sam wasn't closing his door. It felt too out of sorts to be in his own room after so long so Sam left it open. When Dean was sure Sam was safely in bed, hopefully falling asleep he got up and left his room. He listened for Sam's heavy breathing to tell him what he wanted to know, then went to check on him. The line of salt circling Sam's bed was still in place, as were the ones on the windows. One of the dream catchers they'd bought to place above their beds in their temporary homes watched over Sam as he slept. Sam had a green one, Jess's favorite color, he'd let slip. Dean hoped it did its job.

He walked a few feet to Jack's door to check up on her.

"We can't protect people from the past." He'd told Sam. Memories were tricky bastards. Sneaking up on you when you least expected it to trip you up. He thought of a perversion of an old nursery rhyme he'd heard once. 'Sticks and stones can break my bones, but only my doubts can kill me.'

They fought and they fought to keep it together to save people. Sometimes he wanted to scream cause no one but each other could save them. Dean clenched his fist till he felt the little half moons fill with blood in his palm. He walked into Jack's room careful to avoid the noisy spots he'd memorized while fixing the place up. Everything was in its place in the room, the dream catcher a dim outline on the wall. He watched with a blank face as his closest friend besides Sam slept, the lines of worry smoothing as she battled past nightmares that were all too real.

When he contented himself that Sam and Jack were alright Dean went back to his own room. He turned the computer off, changed and laid down. Dean's hand naturally went around the knife under his pillow. Dean adjusted so his back didn't hurt and allowed himself to fall into a dreamless sleep.

**TBC……….**

**AN: Yes I am alive. Odd how a week can feel so long right? Anywhore, I'm back to my obsessive writing self :P. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Nope, zero, zip, nada. No ownership here. I tried to get them, really I did. If I had the boys I'd rent them out to you guys on the weekends.**

The next few days were what Sam came to think of as the adjustment period, when he kept having to tell these insane people he called family that, 'No Dean, cleaning your gun collection does not count as relaxing' and 'Uhuh Jack, s the whole point of getting better is not to try and walk and make your injuries worse.' And they in turn had to remind him that 'Geek Boy no research when we're on a break,' and 'Stop thinking so loud Sam, you're giving me a headache.'

Eventually when the three of them got used to the inactivity it became a real vacation. Their bruises started to fade and after a couple of trips to the town ten miles away with a mile long shopping list, Dean finally managed to get the f ridge stocked to everyone's satisfaction. He vowed to never again do the grocery shopping. He was traumatized by a soccer mom incident at the supermarket. It helped that the guy who owned the place had a sweet set up. Including stereo systems, a big screen, satellite and an X-box 360.

"What's a grown man need an X-Box for?" Jack asked munching on some raw cookie dough.

"Never too old for video games, sweetheart." Dean commented practically salivating over the machine. She shook her head and grabbed up the first controller.

"Gonna kick your ass at this." She smirked at Dean.

"Care to put your money where your mouth is?" Dean asked popping in Blood Roar Extreme.

"Twenty?" Jack inquired raising an eyebrow at him.

"Forty." Dean challenged.

"Fine." Jack grinned and turned to Sam who was relaxing with a book at one of the windows.

"Hey, Sam can I borrow forty bucks?" She asked with big innocent eyes.

"I have ten dollars to my name." Sam said giving her a look.

"Can I borrow ten bucks then?" Jack amended.

"I gonna go make lunch." Sam said putting his book aside.

"Five bucks?" Jack called after him.

"Come on lets play. I already picked that cute bunny chick for you." Dean said nudging her in the shoulder.

"How's it gonna feel to g et your but whooped by a pink bunny?" Jack asked turning her attention to the game.

"I won't know. Don't worry I'll go easy on you the first couple rounds though." Dean said cockily.

"That's not fucking possible. You're cheating!" Dean accused twenty minutes and four consecutive losses later.

"Oh don't worry sweetheart I'll try to go easy on you the next couple of rounds." Jack said in a sugary sweet voice as her player blew a kiss at Dean's fallen tiger character.

"Ow!" They heard from the kitchen. Dean hopped to his feet and Jack limped slowly after him, walking on the sides of her feet to the kitchen.

Dean stopped in the doorway trying to reconcile the sight in front of him. Jack just fell down laughing. Because she'd just subtle that way.

Sam was wearing the lady of the house's apron, which now sported scorch marks that would make a pyromancer proud. He was shaking out one of his hands , a spatula on the ground by his feet and a skillet covered in smoke and what might have been hamburgers once upon a time.

"You okay Sammy?" Dean squeaked trying not to laugh.

"I've got it under control." Sam glared at t hem. Just then the pan burst into flames. He hopped back with wide eyes and Dean ran to the sink filling a cup with water. He doused the flames and flicked on the fan above the stove. He turned back to Sam, with an obvious look on his face.

"How do you manage to burn…what the hell is this?" Dean asked looking at the blackened mess.

"It was hamburgers." Sam scowled looking at the floor in embarrassment.

"Those poor cows." Dena shook his head. Sam muttered 'shut up' under his breath, but he was fighting to keep a straight face.

"You go avenge me at the game and I'll get lunch ready. Okay little brother?" Dean patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. Sam nodded and humphed at Jack who was holding her stomach, laughing till tears ran down her cheeks.

"You ::Cough:: cooking ::chuckle:: burning down the house…" Jack was sputtering between hysterical giggles. She thought she might bust a stitch but it was so worth it to see Sam in an apron, nearly getting the fire marshal called on them with his cooking.

"Hilarious." Sam said giving her his patented death glare that only made her laugh harder and urged a snort form Dean. Dean forced on a straight 'what did I do?' face when Sam turned back to him.

"You guys suck." Sam told them huffing out of the room. Dean took the opportunity to double over holding his hand over his mouth so Sam wouldn't hear him.

"Go let my brother kick your ass at the game." Dean told Jack when he could control himself. He helped her to her feet so she could waddle back to the living room.

"I heard that!" Sam shouted.

"Boys got ears like a damn bat." Dean said shaking his head.

"I heard that too." Sam called. "I'm better at this game than Dean is." Sam appeared in the doorway with an evil smirk on his face.

"That's not saying much." Jack told him going back into the living room with him.

"I let you win." Dean defending himself from the sink where he dumped the charred pan.

"My ass. And I suppose you loosened the lid on the pickle jar too." Jack retorted taking a seat back on the overstuffed leather couch in the guy's living room. This placed really did rock, she thought looking at the entertainment center.

"I did." Dean shot back. He started pulling out the fixings for more hamburgers and smiled when he heard the game music start up again, followed shortly by Jack exclaiming in defeat. He went to the radio on the other side of the kitchen and flicked it to a classic rock station, turning it up full blast. He started singing along to 'Highway To Hell' while he moved around the kitchen.

"Told you." Sam said smugly after he TKO'd Jack's rabbit in ten seconds.

"Oh you're going down now Jolly Green." Jack said.

"We'll see bout that Zippo." Sam shot back.

"You're freakishly good at this." Jack stuck her tongue at him after being beaten a couple more times.

"Its all in the wrist, right Sam? That's why he's so much better than me" Dean said with a smirk as he came into the room.

"Shouldn't you be watching the food?" Sam said ignoring the double meaning there.

"Unlike you I didn't try to vaporize the hamburgers Sam." Dean said plopping down on the couch. He took the controller from Jack and reset the game.

"Its a tricky stove." Sam said defensively.

"Yeah, hot and burnt are really hard to get." Dean teased. "Take off that ridiculous apron, dude."

Sam looked down at himself and blushed when he saw that he'd forgotten to take the damn thing off. He pulled it off and threw it across the room ignoring the sniggers from his companions. He took the opportunity to beat the piss out of Dean's character. Dean pursed his lips, Sam was freakishly good at that game.

There was a loud _ding _heard over the music and Dean got up saying, "Foods done."

"You set an oven timer, and I'm the girl here?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"Hey you almost burnt down the kitchen Martha." Dean told him. "I thought it would be smarter to air on the side of caution."

"Scared his cooking skills would rub off on you?" Jack asked.

"Naw, I could never be that bad." Dean said over his shoulder.

Dean's phone rang while he was scooping t he food out of the pan, he took a moment to brace himself when he saw that it was his father. He turned the music down low before answering the phone.

"Hey dad." He said casually.

"You haven't been answering your phone." John said shortly.

"I was busy taking care of things here." Dean told him.

"Damnit Dean you don't drop off the radar." John seethed on the other end of the phone.

"What like you did?" Dean asked angrily. There was silence on the other end and Dean felt bad.

"Dad, I have to get some food into Sammy, the kids not eating enough. Can I call you later?" Dean asked, making it more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah alright." John said after a heavy pause. Dean could imagine his dad, wherever the hell he was, rubbing his forehead the way he did when he was upset or frustrated by something.

"We are going to talk about this Dean." John said in that no nonsense tone.

"Yes sir." Dean replied and hung up. He whistled loudly.

"Sam help me bring the food out." Dean said. Sam appeared in the doorway grinning and completely relaxed fro the first time in a long time. Dean knew that it was totally worth getting torn a new one just to see Sam looking like that.

"Here make yourself useful." Dean said pushing one of the plates towards Sam.

"Someone call?" Sam asked taking the plate.

"Nope." Dean lied.

"Hey Golden Boy come back in here so I can kick your ass. Sam killed my self esteem." Jack said from the couch.

"Good, your ego's too big already." Sam said setting down the food while Dean put down the rest of the supplies to fix up their burgers.

"I can't help it that I'm gorgeous and kick ass." Jack said winking at him.

"Not at this game apparently." Sam said.

Dean watched them go back and forth while he made his food, encouraging each of them in turn. A little bit of the weight on his shoulder's lifted a little. They were healing, it had been almost a week since something tried to kill them and no one knew where they were. Things were actually looking up.

**TBC……..**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned the boys, I really do. I'd use them for my own nefarious purposes.**

John walked into the hospital and smiled confidently at the woman behind the desk.

"Good morning ma'am." He said giving her one of his good ole boy smiles. She smiled right back and he was in.

"How may I help you sir?" She asked him brushing a stray blonde hair behind her ear. John rested his elbows up on the desk top and leaned into the woman.

"I was wondering if you could possibly look up the records of some recent patients for me." He said charmingly, flipping out his badge.

"Of course Officer." She said looking at the badge. She put down the files she'd been holding and moved to one of the computers.

"Thank you Nurse Carter." He said reading her nametag.

"What are the last names of the patients?" Nurse Carter asked him pleasantly.

"McGee. Siblings I believe." He answered.

"Oh right, I remember them." She said looking stricken, John noted. "Are they in some kind of trouble?"

"Just some questions about an ongoing investigation." John dismissed like it was nothing. He leaned further down to speak to the woman in a low voice.

"You say you remember them?" He asked.

"Well yes, I was on duty the night they came in. I'd never seen anything like that in my life." Nurse Carter said dropping her voice low to match his.

"That bad?" John asked keeping his voice smooth. She'd stopped typing to talk to him and he wanted to tell the woman to hurry the hell up and get the records for him.

"Terrible, that poor girl. It was odd though, they just disappeared after one night here." She said and resumed her typing.

"Here we are. If you'll hold on one second officer, I'll get their charts for you." She smiled brightly.

"I really hope you catch whoever did that to them." She said returning with three files in hand minutes later.

"Excuse me?" John asked pulling himself from his thoughts on what the hell might have happened.

"Well that's why you're here right? Investigating what happened to those three?" She asked him.

"Yes, that's right." John said smoothly. He reached out and took the files from her hand.

"Thanks." He said turning his back to her without waiting for a reply, to go sit in one of the waiting room chairs to look at the files.

John read through each one, his grip on the folders getting tighter with each word. By the time he got to Sam's leg (the last part of the last file) he was close to ripping the thing to shreds. The detailed descriptions of the injuries were so clinical and detached but he could see where the pen shook a little when describing the foot long lacerations on Dean's back and see where someone written and crossed out the word torture in the margin of Jack's file. Torture. Something had tortured his kids. John closed the files, glad they didn't have photos included. He imagined Dean had nixed that suggestion the second it flew out of someone's mouth. Protocol or not, no one argued with Dean when it came to protecting Sam or Jack. John had first hand experience with that now.

Taking a second to compose himself John rose and brought the files back to the nurse.

"Thank you again ma'am." He said sliding the files to her.

"Oh it was really no problem sir." She smiled flirtatiously at him. John gave her a strained smile and bid her farewell.

He let his smile fall as soon as he walked through the Emergency Room doors out into the morning sun.

* * *

Dean woke up at noon. He honestly couldn't remember the last time that phenomenon happened. It was the Haley's Comet of sleep. Even better than a great night's sleep, he could smell food cooking. And since it didn't smell like a fire hazard, it meant Jack was cooking. He hopped out of bed smothering a slight groan, cause fuck that, Dean Winchester does not make that sound yet. Dean padded down the halls the kitchen and was surprised to find Sam manning the stove, while Jack sat on the island in watching him.

"Am I still sleeping?" Dean asked.

"Shut up." Sam rolled his eyes and took a pan filled eggs off the stovetop.

"I'm supervising." Jack explained.

"Thank God." Dean gave an exaggerated sigh of relief.

"Sam you can take the bacon off now." Jack said swatting Dean on the arm. Sam did as he was told. He'd been the hands in Operation Breakfast(Lunch) while Jack was the brains. He put the pans on the island next to Jack and stepped back.

"So what are we going to do today?" Sam asked while Jack rationed out the food onto their plates.

"Get me the pepper." She instructed him.

"I think if I play any more video games I'm going to kill something." Dean said.

"Those games are too violent." Jack said shaking pepper onto the three servings of eggs. The three paused and looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

"Yeah we wouldn't want to be corrupted by animated violence." Sam said.

"Make yourself useful and get the orange juice." Jack told Dean.

"I want to go to the town. We haven't left the house all week." Sam said.

"Looking the way we do?" Dean asked looking at him.

"Since when do you care what people think?" Sam asked. Dean gave a half nod, half shrug.

"I can survive a trip to town, I'm not made of glass." Jack told Dean when he looked doubtfully in her direction.

"Fine, we'll go town." Dean acquiesced. Sam grinned and shoved a fork full of eggs in his mouth.

"You're the best dad ever." Jack told Dean in a high pitched voice.

After finishing their breakfast(lunch) and getting dressed they piled into the Impala, heading towards the little town a few miles away from the house.

"Alright Sam, this was your bright idea. What are we gonna do in town?" Dean asked parking the car.

"Not used to a small town where nothing is trying to eat the locals." Jack mused looking out the window at the requisite Ma and Pop diner they were parked in front of and the coffee shop next door.

"There's a movie theater somewhere around here, I saw it when we drove through." Sam said opening his door.

"Dark room for a couple of hours, works for me." Jack said picking idly at her hand cast. Dean had colored the knuckles black in some gesture that only Dean understood, said it matched the car.

* * *

He approached the house cautiously, not going inside because he wouldn't make it past the precautions they'd taken. He didn't need to get inside though. The hunters had inadvertently brought his weapon against them inside the house as soon as they arrived. All he had to do was activate the spell and everything would go from there.

The stranger took a vial of blood from his jacket pocket and carefully spilled out three drops of the red fluid onto the bottom step of the porch stairs. When that was done he mixed a handful of snow till the blood all but disappeared. And the spell was done.

All the hard work had gone into making the objects themselves, in disguising something malevolent as a form of protection. Those dream catchers really were works of art.

* * *

Dean wanted to see the new action flick that was out. Sam wanted to see some drama there and Jack wanted to shut up, sit down and eat some damn popcorn before she froze her ass off. Finally the boys flipped a coin and Dean won. Sadly this was in spite of Sam trying to use his abilities to cheat.

"Don't we get enough action?" Sam whined as Dean got in line to buy the tickets.

"Its got that drama stuff you like too Sam, its Scorsese for God's sake." Dean told him.

"I'm cold." Jack whined putting her weight against the wall behind her.

"We know." The brothers said in unison.

"Go stand over there so I can order kid tickets for you guys, its cheaper that way." Dean told Sam and Jack.

"You're so cheap." Sam admonished.

"The word is broke." Dean corrected pushing Sam towards the side of the building so he could buy the tickets.

"Yeah right, I know you cleaned up at pool a couple days ago." Jack said before Sam tugged her around the side of the building. A young mother passed by them, took one look at the bruises the two sported and pulled her little boy closer to her, whispering at him to look straight ahead and hurry up.

"People are so untrusting these days." Jack sighed shaking her head.

"Shame on them." Sam said sarcastically.

Dean came around the corner grinning holding three tickets in his hand.

"If anyone asks Sam you've got that disease that makes you look older than you are. That Robin Williams thing." Dean said passing Sam a child's ticket.

"Haha." Sam told him.

**TBC…….**

**AN: Okay just giving my kids some more down time before tearing their vacation apart. Speaking of vacations, tomorrow I'm heading up to see my brother, who got some family leave time from his training. Ten hours in a car with six other people. Oh, joy. If you see on CNN that a girl went nuts and threw her brother out the car window for touching the radio, that's me. Lol. Oh, btw. Took this totally kick ass quiz on quizilla 'Who's your Supernatural Soul Mate?' I got Dean! Is that really a surprise to anyone?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own the oc's, I have to make due with that.**

"I wish I could help you John but they didn't tell me where they were going when I talked to them." Missouri said pouring a cup of coffee for John in her kitchen.

John had driven straight to Lawrence to see Missouri, after leaving Oklahoma. He stared down into his cup trying to divine his kids location in the steam. John had a bad feeling, he was anxious and filled with a sense of foreboding. And he knew enough to believe his instincts about these things. He had to find out where Dean had taken them.

"John, what's going on?" Missouri asked slowly sitting down across from him. She watched him carefully and he knew she was trying to read him, to see straight through to his dirty secrets.

"What are you hiding from me?" She demanded.

"Don't." John said shortly. He gulped down half his coffee. "I have to go. They couldn't have just disappeared into thin air."

"You should rest for the night. Last time I talked to Dean he said they were fine, just taking a break." Missouri told him.

"I have a feeling something bad is happening or is going to happen to them." John explained getting to his feet, pouring the rest of his coffee in the sink.

"Aren't you being a little paranoid?" Missouri asked.

"Of course I am. Paranoid is the only mode I have." John said sardonically. "It doesn't mean I'm wrong though."

* * *

Jack made an excuse to leave the movie a few minutes before the ending, saying she had to use the bathroom. Once out she limped out the front doors and grinned wickedly as she stooped to pick up handfuls of snow from a corner of the parking lot that had yet to be shoveled. She sat down in the drivers side of the Impala, tossed the snow from hand to hand snickering as she made a few quick snowballs. Jack stockpiled the wet arsenal at her feet and waited fro the boys to come around the side of the building.

Dean was the first to come a round the corner, his head turned so he could call something to Sam. He was gesturing and talking animatedly about something that had happened in the movie. The lines on his face were completely gone, relaxed for t he first time in weeks. Jack picked up the first snowball, ducked behind the driver's side door, aimed and-

"What the hell?!" Dean cried out as the slushy, wet snow beaned him right in the side of the head.

Sam had a second to laugh in shock before he had to duck another projectile. He caught it in the shoulder and both boys quickly went down behind a parked car and looked for their unseen attacker.

"Come out boys, I can see you." Jack called in a taunting sing song voice.

"She's so dead." Dean said grinning at his brother.

"Careful she has your car hostage." S am warned scooping up snow in his massive paws.

"You just declared war Jack!" Dean yelled across the parking lot. He glanced up over the front of their shield and nearly took another snowball to the head. But he got her location. Hiding behind his car, now that was fighting dirty.

"All's fair in love and war darlin!" Jack laughed back as though she could read his thoughts.

Dean turned his attention to helping Sam build up their own arsenal of snowballs.

"You go around the front, draw her fire and I'll sneak around the back." Dean said setting down their war plan.

"Why do I always have to be the bait." Sam demanded, but he was smiling all the same.

"Cause you make a better moving target." Dean told him.

"Fine you jerk." Sam picked up an armload of snowballs and scooted around the side of the car. Just cause he was the bait didn't mean he was going out there unarmed.

"Thinks he c an trick me." Jack mumbled as Sam stepped up from behind the Toyota they'd barricaded themselves behind.

He looked straight at her, his boyish smile making him looked younger. He had so many snowballs she had to laugh. He'd be hard pressed to juggle the load and hit her at the same time.

She looked over her shoulder to watch for the sneak attack that she was sure was coming and launched snowballs at Sam with both hands. He ducked them, he was a quick bastard, and launched a huge snowball at her. At the same time she was hit point blank in the back of the head, the cold slush dripping down her hair and into the back of her sweater.

She screeched and whirled around to see behind her armed and ready.

"Double teaming a poor defenseless girl." She sighed sneaking her hands down to grab two more balls. Meanwhile Sam was inching closer preparing to strike.

"Yeah, you're so delicate." Dean said sarcastically. He threw another snowball at Jack and she ducked so that it hit Sam in his leg instead.

"That was an accident, man." Dean said laughing at Sam. Sam shook his head selecting another of his mammoth ice balls and aimed at his brother.

"Come on man, united we stand and all that stuff." Dean said inching backwards with his free hand up. The snow was melting a little against his jacket.

Jack was about to open her mouth when she turned quickly and threw a snowball right in Sam's face before he launched his snowball and quickly scrambled inside the car before Dean could get a shot off. She slammed the manual locks into place.

She expected Dean to throw a fit but he just swaggered up to the car with a cocky smile on his face. He dug in his pockets and pulled out the keys.

"Aw crap." Jack said aloud before he slid the key into the lock and opened the door.

"Do you surrender?" He asked her leaning into the car, inches from her face.

"Never." Jack said narrowing her eyes at him. She screamed as he pulled her out of the front seat, dragging back into the icy parking lot.

"Get her Sammy." He said, holding her in his steal grip while she tried to squirm out of his grasp.

Dean laughed and tightened his hold, still keeping it loose enough though. Playing was harder when they were banged up but not impossible. Sam rushed up and poured his whole armful of snow on both Dean and Jack, shaking with laughter at the wet, cold twosome.

"You're such a little bitch." Dean said startled. Jack sneezed and Dean realized he was still holding onto her.

"Ewww!" Jack picked snow out of her hair. Sniffling she tried to glare at Sam but he was laughing too hard at them to care. She was soaking wet now, but he was red from the hit to the face he'd taken so she didn't mind that much, so long as she got back to the house and got into a nice hot shower.

"Yeah same here, guts and gore I can take but snow is just wrong." Dean said wiping the wet stuff off his jacket sleeve. Snow was everywhere on him, even down his pants and Sam was going to pay for that shit. This was the most undeserved case of blue balls Dean had ever had.

"Truce?" He asked.

"Now who's surrendering?" Jack said smugly.

"Hey, a truce is not a surrender. Its a cease fire." Dean argued.

"Its not a cease fire if I won." Sam said leaning against the car, grinning ear to ear.

"You didn't win, we're holding a truce." Dean told him.

"Only if I can drive." Jack said wringing out her hair. "You never let me drive."

"You can't hardly walk, how are you going to work the peddles?" Dean asked. Sam smacked him upside the head at his lack of tact.

"I'll take a rain check." Jack replied sitting down in the driver's seat.

"Let's just get home and get dry." Sam suggested.

"Double team him a t the house?" Jack whispered to Dean as she scooted over to the passenger side and Dean got behind the wheel.

"Oh yeah." Dean replied trying not to let the evil glint in his eyes show to his unsuspecting little brother.

Sam slid into the backseat, marveling at the fact t hat they'd just had an impromptu snowball fight in the parking lot of a movie theatre and that Dean was in such a good mood he wasn't even bitching about them getting slow and water all over the seats of his baby.

"Y'all are cleaning the car later, bitches." Dean said before he turned on the car and Bad Company drowned out any protests they might have had.

So much for that thought, Sam thought, smiling out the window as they pulled out of the parking lot.

"You missed the end of the movie." Dean said when he turned off the car in front the house.

"it was worth it to see the look on your face when you got hit." Jack said.

"Sneaky little bitch." Dean said affectionately.

"You're pet names for people are just heart warming really." Sam said putting a hand over his heart sighing exaggeratedly.

"That's how I do things." Dean agreed. "You should see me on Valentines Day."

"I'd rather not, might die laughing." Sam told him opening his door.

"He gives his girl a loaded .45 instead of a box of chocolates and straight razors instead of roses." Jack teased him as they walked up the steps as fast as possible before the wind picked up.

"Don't forget the rock salt and a six pack instead of champagne." Sam added.

"I'm hurt, seriously. I wouldn't give a girl a .45 on Valentine's Day." Dean argued, "That's more for an anniversary."

"Somehow I don't think Cassie would have liked something like that." Sam said.

"Who's that?" Jack asked looking back at Sam while Dean unlocked the front door.

"An ex." Dean said shortly. He quickly opened the door so they could hustle inside.

"Don't think she could handle the kick on a .45 anyway." Dean said with a smirk. "She's not like Jack-Jack here."

"Yeah I rule." Jack said prying her sopping wet coat off. She sneezed so hard she dropped the damn thing and it made a loud wet plop on the hard wood floor.

"Go get warm while I make us something to eat." Dean ordered both her and Sam, nearly shoving them towards the bedrooms.

"Sir, yes, sir." Jack said sniffling. The only good thing she could think of about being so cold was that she couldn't feel her feet anymore, so it was easier to walk to her room. Once she crossed the threshold she felt a beat of….something.

"What the hell?" She mumbled, she poked her head out to Sam's door to see if he felt something or if it was just her, but he was already in his room. She shook off the feeling and closed the door behind her, stripping down on her way to the huge bathroom she had all to herself.

* * *

Sam pulled his sweater over his head and was untying his sneakers when a chill ran up his spine. He stood up straight, taking his knife out of his pocket. He surveyed the room, nothing looked out of sorts. He went to the windows, pulled back the curtains, frowning to find them closed. He ran a freezing cold hand over his face and tossed his knife on the bed. Sam rolled his eyes at himself. Of course he'd get the chills, he was wet and cold and probably on his way to a spectacular cold and cough. Still, he thought pulling off the rest of his clothes, it was fun to ambush Dean and Jack back there.

Sam turned the shower as hot as it would go without burning his skin and looked at his reflection. His face was beat read from the chill outside and he was shaking visibly and he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy and relaxed.

* * *

Dean set the oven to bake the chicken and went to his room. After turning t he shower on, he hummed a song under his breath as he stripped out his wet clothes waiting for it to get warmed up. On his way back to the bathroom Dean passed the dark blue dream catcher he'd bought for himself, he looked at the thing, wondering if it was rally the reason he hadn't been plagued by nightmares since they came here. Or if it was just that they had taken a break from the nightmares of their lives for a bit.

Dean shook his head and reached out to touch one of the feathers, that the man running t he stand he'd bought them from, said were authentic. He felt a shock and pulled his hand away fast. He looked at the thing frowning for a few seconds. Steam was starting to billow from the bathroom, sending out its inviting warmth. Dean looked down at his hand. Static electricity maybe?

Nothing had happened since they got to the house but he didn't want to get complacent. He decided he'd ask the others if anything felt out of sorts after dinner.

Too bad that the moment he stepped into the shower he put the dream catcher out of his mind and forgot all about t he incident.

**TBC……**

**AN: Okay so here's the sweet and lowdown on what's to come. Our kids are going to get a crash course in what could have been. How life without the supernatural would have went for them. Yes, this story has a plot and I'm finally getting around to it.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Nope, I own nothing and I'm pissed about it.**

As Sam, Dean and Jack fell asleep, he watched, just to make sure the spell worked. To be sure that all that hard work wasn't for nothing. Watching would tell him nothing, but if the spell had worked nothing would be able to wake the trio. About an hour after the lights went out inside he walked around the side where their bedrooms were located, lifted his gun up and straight up in the air.

A minute passed. Then two and three. Nothing happened. Certainly no angry, gun wielding hunters came from the house to investigate.

The man chuckled. The great Winchesters and Fontenot, taken down by a dream.

* * *

**Lawrence, Kansas**

Dean tossed and turned in his sleep, trying to find a comfortable position. He finally found when he heard the alarm sound.

"Fuck me." He swore sitting up in his cot.

"No wonder you're such a hit with the ladies, Winchester, with a mouth like that." A voice from the next cot said through a yawn.

"Served well enough for your sister." Dean retorted grinning at Charlie Dane, a fellow firefighter and one of his closest buddies.

"Hey now, no sisters man." Charlie said in a warning in his voice.

Dean grinned and pushed himself up. He hustled out of bed, pulled on his pants and left the sleeping quarters, following the action downstairs.

He and Charlie were among the last to get suited up and onto the truck before it went wailing out of the firehouse.

"You catch enough beauty sleep, Deana?" Williams asked sitting across from him. It was a long running joke that the guys had about Dean. He took it in stride because he was the one who sold for the highest at the Bachelor Auction Fundraiser the city held every year.

"Just thought about the Chief's last speech and I fell right to sleep." Dean said over the sirens. The guys traded jeers and jokes as they drove on.

They were tearing through Lawrence at 6 in the morning, it was another hour till Dean's shift was over and he could crash at home and thanks to him taking the graveyard shift twice for a buddy that week, he'd have the weekend all to himself. And it was already Friday.

He was going to go home, relax, spend some time with his family, go hit the town with his little brother and go home with something pretty on his arm.

Yup, everything was right in the world.

Dean shut off his mind when the truck came to a stop in front of a burning building. Time to go to work. He ran in with the other's in his crew, already feeling the heat through his helmet.

* * *

Sam's alarm clock rang and he got up from his desk to turn it off, then went back to his computer, saved the paper he'd been working on and closed his laptop. He yawned and stretched the kinks out of his arms and legs and went to get in a quick shower before breakfast. Crossing the hall to get to the bathroom he ran into his father on his way downstairs.

"Another all nighter Sam?" John asked.

"Yes sir. Had some work I had to finish." Sam explained.

"I worry about you working too hard. You're in college you should take a break every now and then, have some fun." John said frowning.

"Leave him alone John." Mary chastised walking up the stairs.

"Morning mom." Sam said, stifling another yawn

"Good morning Sammy." Mary replied leaning up on her tip toes to give her youngest a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm just saying that its summer and he should be taking a break like all normal kids his age are doing." John continued.

"Normal doesn't get you the story dad." Sam grinned over his shoulder on his way to the bathroom.

"Let him be, you know he loves his work." Mary said putting her arms around her husbands neck.

"I know." John said putting his hands on his wife's hips and swaying back and forth with her to a tune only they understood.

"I have to make breakfast." Mary said smiling up at him. She tried to disentangle her arms form around him but he pulled her closer, lifting her up in the air and twirling her around effortlessly.

Mary laughed and shrieked for him to put her down, making him only spin her again, faster this time.

"I really, hey," Mary lays a kiss on John's lips when he stops spinning her and is just holding her up like some revered thing, "I really have to get breakfast done."

"Who needs food?" John asked but he lowered her gently to the g round anyway.

"Our son, who has an early class today." Mary reminded him.

"He's twenty two he can fend for himself." John said dismissively making Mary laugh. God, he loved making Mary laugh.

"Fine you have to go to work too though and I doubt you want to go there hungry." Mary pointed out.

"Well if you're going to say it like that." John said wrapping his rams around Mary from behind as she walked back down the stairs.

* * *

Sam went through his shower thinking about the extra summer courses he'd signed up for at the University. True, he'd just finished a fifteen credit hour semester, but he wanted more. He loved being t here and when he'd had the opportunity to take a popular investigative journalism class, he'd jumped on it, grabbing one of the last spots in the class. He also threw in a few extracurricular classes just because he like his school so much. Dean would never let him live that down.

Sam grinned when he thought about his older brother. With Dean's help he'd done a story for the school paper on life in the firehouse that got him an award the previous term, he was planning on using the recognition to nab an internship at a newspaper the next school year.

"Sam, hurry up before your father eats your breakfast too." His mother called, pulling him back to t he present and the fact that he'd be late if he didn't get a move on.

"Be right down." Sam called pulling a long sleeve shirt and a pair of jeans on. He packed his laptop into his black messenger bag before taking the stairs two at a time down to the kitchen.

"What's for breakfast?" Sam asked.

"Pancakes." Mary answered starting the coffee maker.

"Blueberry?" Sam asked.

"Of course." Mary said as she set a plate in front of Sam and took a seat in front of her own plate of food.

* * *

**New Orleans, Louisiana**

"Jacqueline, wake up sweetheart." Jack pulled the extra pillow next to her over her head to block out her mother's unwelcome voice waking her from her sleep.

She heard her bedroom door open and seconds later a heavy shape plopped down right on her legs. She kicked hard and heard a satisfying 'oof'.

"Serves you right, for sneakin into a girl's bedroom." Jack said lifting the pillow over her head to see her uncle glaring at her rubbing the side of his head.

"An here I was trying to be nice and wake you 'fore your mama came up to do it for you." Chris said scowling at her.

"Out of the kindness of your heart, I'm sure." Jack drawled.

"Yes, outa the kindness of my heart, smartass." Chris said reaching under the sheets to tickle his niece's feet. She kicked and laughed trying to get away from him. He was such a big kid sometimes.

"You sure you're thirty eight?" Jack's dad's voice came from the doorway. Jack managed to scramble away from Chris and ran to hide behind her dad, laughing.

"I'm thirty seven, big brother." Chris said resting his chin in his hands as he lay on his stomach on Jack's antique canopy bed.

"You're thirty eight with the brain of a twelve year old boy." Thomas said in a bored voice, a smile tuggin at his lips. Jack looked around him sticking her tongue out at her uncle.

"I saw that young lady." Thomas said meeting her eyes in the mirror across the large room from them. Chris started laughing at her.

"Get dressed, go downstairs and help your ma with breakfast." Thomas said pushing her back into the room towards her bathroom.

"And you go downstairs. I swear its like I have two kids sometimes." Thomas said tugging his younger brother's earlobe on his way out the door.

"You know you love me." Chris grinned at Thomas.

"Honestly I don't know why your wife puts up with you." Thomas said rolling his eyes at the man.

"Ask her yourself. Madeleine! Love of my soul! My good for nothing brother wants to ask you something." Chris yelled as they walked down two flights of stairs to the ground floor of the family house. As per their late mother's wishes, Chris and his wife had moved into the Fontenot home, with Thomas, Annabelle and Jack after Momma Fonty passed on.

"Stop yelling so much." Madeleine scolded her husband of six years.

"I'm sorry baby, sorry to you too little one." Chris went down on one knee to kiss his wife's very pregnant belly.

"I fear for that child, having a daddy like that." Annabelle teased.

"As do I." Madeleine said running her hand through Chris's strawberry blonde hair.

"Can't believe, y'all woke me up this early in the summer." Jack said in distaste as she made her way into the kitchen.

"You poor dear." Annabelle rolled her eyes and planted a kiss on her daughter's forehead.

"How's my cuz this morning, Maddy?" Jack asked nodding at Madeleine's stomach.

"He's fine in spite of bad genes." Madeleine said indicating at Chris who was sneaking an Oreo out of the pantry.

"Hey them's Fontenot genes, not our fault he got dropped as a child." Jack said grinning.

"What is it 'Pick on Chris day?'." Chris demanded through a mouthful of cookie.

"Everyday is 'Pick on Chris day'." Annabelle said.

"You gonna let the women gang up on us like that?" Chris asked Thomas.

"What 'Us' they aren't picking on me." Thomas said quirking an eyebrow up.

"I'm wounded." Chris put a hand over his heart.

Jack smiled at him and started setting the breakfast table. Immature, never took anything seriously and completely her best friend in the world. That was her uncle.

**TBC……**

**AN: I get to play with AU Sam, Dean and Jack (and other minor characters) Yay! I've been waiting forever to write this. They're EEK! Normal. BTW, John is not caught in the dream here, I just wanted to write him being all schmoopy and good Papa Winchester.**

**AN2: Yes in the Dream, Chris is married to Madeleine Keith. Poor woman. Lol. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own Jack, her family and nothing else.**

**New Orleans, Louisiana**

Jack lounged around her father's restaurant helping around the place. The regulars were like family, she'd known them all her life, known their families all her life. She chatted, flirted, served and helped tend bar till she got bored and her ever present wander lust took over. Great thing about growing up in a place like New Orleans, there was so much to explore. Always something to look at, even if she'd never lived anywhere else.

Still by two o'clock she walked back home in time to see the mail man finishing up with their mail box.

"Hey, Sandy." She greeted the old man. He was a regular at her father's place too.

"Hey beautiful." He greeted her with a toothy smile.

:You got sumthin for me?" She asked more out of conversation than actual curiosity.

"Yes I do." Sandy replied tapping her box. Jack raised a surprise eyebrow and waved to the old man as he left.

Then she tore open the box, sorted through the letters till she found the one addressed to her.

University of Kansas the return address read. Never one to shy away from something as terrifying as a letter from a University Jack ripped open the envelope and ran her eyes greedily over the contents.

"Mom! Aunt Maddy!" Jack ran up the walkway to her house and inside.

"Mom!" She shouted again looking through the bottom level and finding it empty. She ran up the stairs to the second floor.

"In the Nursery Jack." She heard her mother call and she ran to the left hallway just off the landing to the room designated for the nursery once the baby arrived.

"Momma, I got in!" She yelled panting in the doorway.

"What?" Annabelle asked putting down the baby blanket she'd been holding up for Madeleine to look over.

"I got into that summer program. The music program in Kansas." Jack said waving the letter in front of her mother's face.

"Let me see." Annabelle said taking the letter from her daughter's hand. Not an easy feat since Jack was bouncing up and down in excitement.

"Oh baby, that's wonderful." Annabelle said reading over the letter.

"Congrats Jack." Maddy came around Annabelle to give Jack a hug. She got to hold onto her niece for exactly ten seconds before Jack pulled away with a small wrinkle of her nose and a huge grin on her face. She'd never understood the girl's aversion to overt physical affection.

"Your daddy is not gonna be happy bout this." Annabelle said biting her lip.

"Don't care, its my life and I'm going." Jack replied stubbornly.

* * *

**Lawrence, Kansas**

"Hey, Geek Boy, need a ride?" Dean asked slowing the Impala to glide along side Sam as he walked on the sidewalk carrying his back pack loaded down with books and his laptop. Dean swore the kid was surgically attached to that thing.

"I don't take rides from strangers." Sam replied.

"You learn that from your brother? Smart man, taught you well." Dean smirked.

Sam rolled his eyes and stopped walking. Dean idled the car long enough for Sam to put his things in the backseat and jump in the shotgun seat.

"Arrogant bastard." Sam said to Dean.

"Hey, mom and dad were married long before I came along." Dean shot back with an easy grin.

"How was work?" Sam asked.

"Good man, you know when you're beat." Dean said with a nod and a wink. He passed a 7-11 bag to Sam and answered. "Fun, how was school?"

"Only you would call running into a burning building fun." Sam told him rifling through the bag looking for something that wasn't peanut filled or candy coated. No such luck so he resigned himself to eating a Butterfinger chased down with one of the coffees in the drink holders.

"School was fun." He answered Dean through a mouthful of chocolate.

"Only you would call school fun." Dean mimicked his little brother's voice.

"Bite me." Sam told him.

"Genius of the family and that's all you can come up with. Burning to many brain cells studying Sammy." Dean said with a sigh. "That's Bush league Dude."

Sam laughed and shook his head.

"Where are you taking us?" Sam asked sipping at his coffee. Fuck he needed it, as interesting as his class was, it was a long fucking class and he'd pulled a damn all nighter the night before. He could tell by the way Dean's foot was tapping to the music on the tape deck like he was the Energizer Bunny on speed that Dean was far beyond his first hit of caffeine of the day as well.

"Home, little brother, gotta make nice with mom." Dean said turning the car in the direction of their childhood home. Dean had a place a few streets down in an apartment building close the fire house, his family's house and their dad's garage, so he could help out every now and then.

"She's still pretty mad at you." Sam warned him.

"Hence the words, 'make nice with mom'." Dean said giving him a 'Duh dude' look.

"Did you just say Hence?" Sam asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No." Dean said his face reddening.

"Dude, you so did." Sam said laughing, slapping his knee.

"Dude, you wanna walk home?" Dean shot back. Sam didn't stop laughing so Dean pursed his lips and turned up the radio to drown his brother out.

* * *

Mary was still mad at Dean. She glared daggers at him the second he walked in through the front door.

"Hey mom." Dean waved giving his most angelic smile.

"Don't you 'Hey mom' me Dean Winchester." Mary said.

"Don't double name me." Dean whined. He paused feeling a sense of deja vu. What the hell? He'd heard that somewhere before. He shook it off and turned his attention back to his mother. For a blonde woman of no more than 5'6" she was pretty damned intimidating.

"I said I was sorry." Dean appealed.

"You stood that poor girl up. She was my friend's niece Dean." Mary huffed.

"I called the restaurant." Dean defended himself. True he'd called over an hour late for their blind date. But at least he'd called. Besides he had a good excuse.

"A poker game with the guys from your house isn't a good excuse." Mary said reading the look on his face. She turned around to walk through the living room to the kitchen with her boys trailing behind her. Sam was watching with amusement. How the hell did Dean still manage to get in trouble with their parents when he didn't even live there anymore. With his bog mouth that's how.

"It is when you get a Royal Flush." Dean mumbled.

"What was that?" Mary asked turning back to look at him.

"Nothing ma'am." Dean cleared his throat, standing up straighter automatically. Mary turned away from him and opened the fridge.

"Besides," Dean continued, "The poker game came later, I was called in at the last minute because Meyers' kid broke his leg. The game was just blowing off some steam."

Mary blew out a breath. She wasn't all that mad at her son, at least not for the reasons he thought. She wanted him to meet a nice girl. And all the fix ups just ended badly or didn't begin at all.

"Mom." Dean was waiting for some kind of reply and starting to get worried that she was really angry at him.

"I know Dean. You work hard but you're my son. I w ant you to be happy with someone." Mary said turning to face him.

"I'm still in my prime. Don't need to settle down." Dean replied puffing out his chest making her laugh.

* * *

**New Orleans, Louisiana**

Jack went back to her father's business after she finished talking to her mother. The letter was very short notice, she had to be there in a week if she wanted the spot and she wanted the spot. Badly. That meant she'd have to talk her dad.

She found him and Chris in the bar. Chris pouring drinks for the early drinkers and her dad talking to a vender about some delivery of something from one of the local markets.

"Daddy." Jack called sweetly leaning against the bar. He raised his hand to tell her he'd be there in a second and continued his conversation with the vender.

"Uh oh, I know that voice. Who'd you kill?" Chris teased leaning his elbows on the bar top across from her.

"I didn't do nothin wrong." Jack said indignantly.

"Then why aren't you off making trouble in the Quarter like a good girl?" Chris asked.

"Got this in the mail." Jack showed him the letter. Chris read it over, a broad grin breaking out on his face and hopped over the side of the bar and swept his niece in the kind of hug few people were allowed to give her. He proceeded to dance Jack around the room as she laughed loudly.

"What in the hell are you doing?" Thomas asked watching them with a smile.

"Look, our girl is a genius." Chris said and before she could stop him he gave the letter to her dad.

"Ow." Chris said when Jack punched him in the arm.

Jack gave him a pointed look and nodded to her father, who looked less than enthused.

"She can go can't she?" Chris said defensively.

"We should talk about this alone." Thomas said.

"Yup." Jack agreed and followed her father to the back room. Thomas closed the door in his younger brother's face, knowing full well he would be listening in anyway. She took a seat on an old rickety chair.

"Its in Kansas." Thomas said.

"Otherwise the name University of Kansas wouldn't really fit." Jack quipped. Chris snorted a laugh on the other side of the door.

"Why can't you go to a school here in New Orleans?" Thomas asked softly.

"Dad this music program is good. I want to do it." Jack said firmly.

"There are music programs here." Thomas argued.

"I was wait listed for this and a spot just opened up." Jack said back to him. Of course she knew there were programs close to home she could do. Actually she could walk into any of them that she wanted but she wanted to see what was outside the Bayou. That's why she'd chosen this place.

"How will we even pay for this?" Thomas said and she knew she was going to win.

"I'll get a summer job and use the money from working here and around the parish." Jack said.

"You're still a child, this is a whole nother state." Thomas frowned.

"I'm eighteen daddy, if I wanted I could just leave. But I don't want to go out like that." Jack said softening her voice for her father. He looked so at a loss for dealing with having an adult daughter. She felt sorry for him. "Its only fro summer and then I'll start at the University here." She appealed.

"You're my baby girl." Thomas said in resignation. She heard Chris hiss 'Yes' in triumph on the other side of the door and tried not to laugh.

"I'll always be your baby girl." Jack said rolling her eyes at the familial mushiness. She, a woman feared for her mean left hook around the parish, getting teary eyed over her dad's words. What was the world coming to?

"You could play piano anywhere." Thomas sulked and Jack stood to give her bear of a father a hug. He'd always over her, making her feel a sense of comfort and warmth. Odd though, that Chris was the one who always made her feel safe.

* * *

**Lawrence, Kansas**

"Dad's gonna need to hire somebody part time while Jimmy is out with his bad knee." Sam said conversationally later after they'd left their house.

"I'll see if any of the guys need any extra cash on the side." Dean replied.

They were on their way to the garage at that moment, going to pick up their father from work. The damn truck was on the fritz again. Dean had to marvel at the fact that his dad could rebuild a '67 Shelby without breaking a sweat but that pick up was the old man's choice of ride.

"I don't think dad wants any more fire fighters hanging around the shop, says they won't stop flirting long enough to actually work." Sam said looking sideways at his older brother.

"I'm the only fire fighter that works part time at the shop." Dean said.

"Dude, that's the point I was trying to make." Sam said slowly like he was talking to an idiot.

"Shut it, bitch." Dean said cuffing Sam upside his head. "You need a haircut." Dean yanked a bit of Sam's longish hair.

"What are you a girl, don't pull my hair." Sam exclaimed batting Dean's hand away.

"Girl?! Oh, you're gonna get it for that Sam." Dean threatened smacking at his brother with one and turning the wheel into their father's auto repair shop at the same time.

"Dean stop hitting your brother." John called when he spotted them.

"Sam started it." Dean shouted out the window.

"Sam, stop starting it." Was John's reply.

**TBC……..**

**AN: Oaky, their "Normal" existence is starting to give me the heebie-jeebies. I'm bringing the kiddies together again though. Can you say deja vu? And we'll learn what's happening to them as they sleep in the real world. Nothing good, let me tell you.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: "Yes its mine" She said before being sued into the ground by the actual owners of Supernatural. Needless to say Sam and Dean still aren't mine.**

Hours of watching patiently paid off as he saw the effects of his spell. It was obvious that even if the three somehow managed to break free from the dream they would not have the strength to fight. He walked up the steps of the house, no longer taking care to be silent or hide his tracks. He kicked the door in, gun drawn and ready for any number of traps, but was just faced with salt lines. He allowed a brief predatory grin and took a small pocket fan from his pocket. Simple, yes but it yielded the right results.

He turned on the small battery operated fan and stooped to blow the salt lines inward, distorting them so they lost their protective power, just like he's distorted the hunter' reality so they couldn't fight back. So he's able to step over the threshold and into the house. Inside he felt like he was breathing underwater and walking through quicksand, the home was so laden with protective runes.

* * *

John tapped traffic cams till he caught a lead on where his kids were, then he set a course for Massachusetts. A quick phone call to that guy (Matt? Mark? Whathehellever where are they?) that they'd helped once confirmed Dean had arranged the use of the guy's house. The feeling of dread that had fallen over John was like a dark shadow over his psyche now. None of them had answered their phones in days, no messages, nothing. He checked around with their friends, no one had heard from the three. It was like they'd vanished.

* * *

Jack woke in the middle of the night and just lay there staring out the window that overlooked the water line. The moon was round and full, lending enough light to create shadows off her room walls. Some of her sheet music had fallen off the bed when she fell asleep studying it, reading the notes as easily as other people read books.

She was leaving the next afternoon. Flying out because her mother forbade her to travel cross country on some dingy bus by herself. She analyzed how she felt about leaving, a frown distorting her features. She had a heaviness in her chest that had been growing for days. She wanted to go, felt it was right. But something else was there too.

Jack sat up and stretched hoping that some activity would help clear her head. She left her room, walked down the stairs straight to the kitchen, her favorite room in the house and not just because she had bottomless stomach. The large, old kitchen was the heart of their home and always had been. This was where she found her mother sitting at the kitchen table with a mug cupped between her palms, starring intently down into the cup.

"Mom?" She said walking through the doorway. Her mother looked up at her and her eyes crinkled when she smiled at Jack.

"Couldn't sleep. Thinking bout tomorrow I guess." Annabelle said running a hand through her long dark hair. The lilt of her mother's voice ebbed away at some of the tension Jack had been feeling and she took a seat across from Annabelle.

"You nervous?" Jack asked her mom.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Annabelle retorted with a laugh. Her mom considered her for a second and whispered, "Naw, you're not 'fraid are you? Never have been."

"What can I say, I'm just brave like that. Comes natural." Jack said.

"You know, if you decide to," Her mother started, looking very hopeful, "You can just come home, if you don't like it."

Jack smiled, her mom had been one of the people most excited for her but she knew that it was hard for her.

"Get some sleep mom." Jack said taking the mug form her mother. She put a firm hand on Annabelle's shoulder silently telling her to get to bed.

Jack watched her go and realized why she was feeling anxious. She had the vague feeling that if she left now she wouldn't be able to just come back home.

Two days later Jack was settled into a room at the home of an old family friend's aunt.

It was her first day of classes, proof of how close she'd had to cut this trip. Jack slung her messenger bag over her shoulder and flipped the keys to her host's car in the air and caught them. She was borrowing it to get around to her classes and to go apply for a job after. Jack refused to stay at Missouri's house without contributing something to the house.

"Mo, I'm gonna get going." Jack called down the stairs. Jack remembered to shove the newspaper with the red circled want add before she left her room taking the steps two at a time.

"When will you be home?" Missouri asked appearing in front of her at the front door. How'd she do that?

"Not sure, shouldn't wait up though." Jack smirked. Missouri narrowed her eyes at the girl.

"I told your family I'd look after you and I will. Now what time will you be home?" Missouri said hands on her hips.

"Round ten maybe. I got class tomorrow." Jack said sticking her tongue out.

"Don't you stick that tongue out at me, else I'll whack you one." Missouri threatened.

* * *

"Damnit Dean, how can you not own an alarm clock?" Sam seethed hopping on one foot trying to pull his shoe on as he scrambled to get his things together for class. It had been so late getting in the night before that he just crashed at his brother's apartment. Unfortunately either Dean didn't actually own an alarm clock or he was just screwing with Sam every time he stayed over. Sam was betting on the latter.

"Who said I didn't?" Dean grinned into his cup of coffee at his small kitchen table. Sam shot him a dirty look finally sitting down to shove his stubborn sneaker onto his Godzilla feet.

"If I'm late for class-"

"Relax Geek Boy, I'll get you there." Dean said spinning his keys around on his index finger.

**TBC……**

**AN: I'm sorry, I know its too short and I suck out loud right now, but things are chaotic and I'm dead tired right now. This is all I got in me right now.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Nope, bitches, they aint mine, wish it was. I'd set up a movie theatre, invite all y'all over and we'd have Winchester Fantasy Night. Cause that's how much I appreciate you guys. ::Hugs all around::**

Sam fell out of the car before Dean had a chance to properly stop it, he was so fucking late. He could hear Dean laughing at him as he dodged and weaved trying to get across the campus. He was so distracted with plans for his brother's imminent murder that he ran smack into somebody falling ass over head into a pile.

"Sonuvabitch!" An irritated female voice exclaimed. He shook his head to clear it and saw that he was half laying on an annoyed red haired girl, who was looking at him with her lips pursed.

"I'm sorry. That was completely my fault." Sam said scrambling to get off of her.

"I'm not particularly inclined to argue with that." She replied sourly. Sam felt the urge to roll his eyes at her and tell her to stop bitching. It was an oddly familiar feeling.

Sam shook it off and offered her his hand, she waved it off, like he knew she would and picked herself up off the ground, dusting her jeans and t-shirt off.

"You alright pup?" She drawled running an assessing eye over him, frowning at him. She ran a hand through her elbow length, messy hair, tugging at an end.

"I'm fine. And its Sam." Sam said. He couldn't shake this odd feeling that he had. She smiled at him and he found himself smiling back.

"I'm Jack." She said extending her hand to him.

He reached out to shake her and they both caught a look at her red sports watch.

"Aw shit." She exclaimed pulling her hand back from his.

"I'm late. Damn Dean." Sam growled under his breath.

"Nice meetin ya, Sammy. Hope I see ya round." Jack said, hurriedly picking up her fallen bags and stuffing a few loose papers back inside. Sam was bending to retrieve his things but she got to them first and when she handed him his bag he felt a jolt of familiarity that made him pause. He opened his mouth to say something but she was already turning and running in the other direction, leaving Sam staring dumbly after her.

He shook himself and grimaced at how he was going to be even later now. He'd think about the odd girl later, Sam decided running across campus to his class. He couldn't shake the feeling he'd met Jack before and had the oddest feeling that he had to tell Dean about her.

The rest of the morning and throughout his afternoon classes Sam was distracted and at times disoriented. He kept thinking he was seeing things, tiny flickers of something in the corner of his eyes but when he turned t o look nothing was there. And he couldn't stop thinking about Jack. When his last class let out, he couldn't even remember what had been said, Sam was the first one out the door.

* * *

It was Dean's turn to cook for the guys at the firehouse, although he could swear that someone had changed that schedule when he wasn't looking, he always seemed to do most of the cooking there. One of the guys jokingly said he was the perfect little wife. And then was promptly laid out cold on the floor. Dean hummed out a familiar tune as he cooked, wondering how it had gotten stuck in his head in the first place. While he was thinking his phone rang and he lowered the flame so the food wouldn't burn while he answered.

"Dean, can you pick me up?" Sam asked as soon as Dean answered the phone.

"No hello, no how ya doin? Are we breaking up, Samantha?" Dean teased.

"Dean I need a ride man." Sam whined.

"Why don't you buy your own car?" Dean asked for the millionth time. Mostly he asked just to annoy Sam. He knew his little brother didn't have any money.

"The same reason I still live with mom and dad, jerk. Now can you give me a ride or not?" Sam huffed.

"No can do, little brother. I told dad I'd go straight to the shop after my shift. He's short handed again and none of the guys he interviewed met dad's high auto repair standards." Dean said the last with a hint of amusement. John would always have that military perfectionist mindset no matter what the task. Unfortunately few people could live up to his father's expected standard. That's why he was having so much trouble finding a good mechanic.

"Damnit. All right. I'll see if I can find a ride." Sam said in a disappointed tone.

"Just remember one thing Sammy." Dean said dropping to a dead serious voice.

"What?" Sam asked and Dean could practically see his brother sitting up ramrod straight at the sound of Dean's voice. His lips twitched in a smile and he fought not to ruin it by laughing.

"If a man or woman offers you candy or asks you to help find their puppy, you run and find help from the nearest adult." Dean started laughing. He heard a click on the other end of the line.

"Sam? Sammy?" He asked a couple times and shrugged. Kid needed to lighten up. Dean closed his phone and went back to attending to his food. He went back to humming the same tune. He tried to place the name and finally shut off the flame and went in search of one of his buddies to ask if they recognized it.

"Hey Morris, help me out will ya?" He asked the first person he saw. Morris knew almost as much about classic rock as Dean did. The man was working at the top of the fire truck, cleaning.

"What, man?" Morris called back down.

"Tell me if you know this song. Its stuck in my head and I can't remember what this bitch is called.

"Shoot." Morris said and Dean hummed the bars of the song that kept playing in his head.

"What is this a joke? The Great Dean Winchester of the musical knowledge doesn't know a Stones song when he hears one." Morris said chuckling.

"What's the damn name, dude?" Dean scowled.

"Laugh I Nearly Died." Morris answered and started to whistle the tune himself.

'She loves that song.' A voice whispered in the back of his mind.

Dean went still as a statue. He was forgetting something important. What the fuck was it? He had a moment of sheer terror, and nothing around him looked or felt familiar. He closed his eyes.

"Dean? Dean, man are you alright?" Morris called.

* * *

Dean stirred in his sleep, fighting and jerking and he almost thought the young man would tear free of the spell. But after a few tense minutes of struggling Dean settled back down, his breathing labored and his coloring more ashen than it had been.

It spoke to the man's will power that he would be able to fight against the spell at all. The enemy felt a seconds' doubt. If this failed he had no doubt that he would not survive it. Either his master or the hunters themselves would destroy him. He wasn't entirely sure which he should fear more.

* * *

Jack didn't like to sit through lectures. She didn't like sitting still at all. She fidgeted, shucked, tapped and hummed under her breath, itching to get her hands on an actual piano instead having to listen to some professor talk about musical theory. And her hand kept finding its way to her bag to run over the job ad. She couldn't wait to get over there and tell the owner he had a new employee whether he knew it or not. Sometimes her cockiness got Jack into trouble, she hoped this wouldn't be one of those times.

She wanted to be here, she really did, but sitting through lectures had never been her strong point and Jack spent most of her first class doodling in the margins, only half paying attention to anything the man was saying.

Her next class was much better because she finally had some keys under her finger tips and stroked them lovingly the second she sat down in front of the baby grand. She'd always had a great deal of respect for mechanisms. Any kind of mechanisms, from the old piano she'd learned the blues on at her daddy's place, to cars she'd spent summers repairing at old man Durand's garage. She had a natural understanding for the way things worked, her hands automatically searching out and finding the ways of things.

She tapped out the beginnings of a Chopin song but somehow it turned into The Thrill Is Gone, much to the amusement of her professor's TA. He was cute, in an intellectual kind of way. All un-rimmed glasses and wrinkled dress shirts. His unkempt light brown hair fell a little in his eyes. It made her think of the man she'd had a collision with outside, Sam. Then there wasn't much of a contests as far as looks went. Sam out-hotted this kid.

"A blues girl, huh?" He asked leaning against the piano.

"Born and raised, honey." Jack said smiling at him. He opened his mouth to speak but the professor called him away in an irate tone. Jack shrugged and switched back to classical, no use pissing off the teacher her first day in. There was plenty of time for that later.

The class went by in a whir and then Jack was free for the afternoon. She walked through the campus, thinking over her work load for the night. Something was needling at the back of her head and she wasn't sure what it was. She frowned, spinning the keys around her finger as she thought about what was bugging her.

She hopped into Missouri's car and drove to her future job, psyching herself up for it even though she felt a little strange now. When t he auto repair shop came into view Jack forced her inner weirdness out of her mind and put a cocky smirk and her usual swagger into full play.

"There a Mr. Winchester here?" She asked walking straight inside. A grey haired middle aged man rolled out from under an old school Mustang and raised an eyebrow at her.

"John? Yeah, he's in the back. You got business with him?" The man asked with a smile.

"Heard y'all have a job opening." She said holding up the newspaper with the giant sloppy, red circle around the tiny ad.

"You a mechanic?" A voice behind her asked. Jack turned around to see a young, blonde haired man standing just outside the entrance, wearing a Lawrence Fire Department t-shirt, with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Yup. Not certified or nothin' but I been round engines most of my life." Jack drawled confidently.

* * *

Dean felt a jolt of something when he saw the woman standing inside his father's garage. Her words only filtered to him after a few seconds of standing dumbly, trying to assess why he felt the need to …..to what he didn't know. So he found his voice to ask her the first question that he found of the many racing through his head that wouldn't make the girl go running for the hills thinking he was crazy.

When he heard her answer he already knew he would make sure his father hired her, if only to give him time to get to the bottom of t his strange feeling. It was protective, urgent and deeply aggressive.

"Whereabouts you from?" Dean asked walking through the doorway to stand in front of her.

"New Orleans. Why?" Jack asked sounding a little on edge by his closeness. Her accent was thick and husky, lending a slow drawl to her words.

"My dad runs this place." Dean answered and she relaxed just a fraction.

"You're hired." The words popped out of his mouth before he could rationalize them. He saw the other mechanic look at him in shock and held up a hand to stop his question in its tracks. He didn't know why, but like hell he was going to say that Let him think that he'd just given away to a hot girl on no other pretense than the fact that she was drop dead gorgeous.

**TBC……**

**AN: The cracks are showing kiddies. I decide to break this chapter into two parts, if only to give more suspense and because apparently I like being threatened with rocksalt and trips to creepy apple orchards if I don't get my ass to work. Love the revies, you guys always make me smile and laugh.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own any of them. Just Jack.**

Jack was set to work immediately on the Mustang the other guy, Larry she found out his name was, had been working on before. She could hear the strained argument between the elder and younger Winchester in the office as she worked on the transmission. They were arguing over Dean's hiring of her. She hummed while she tinkered around under the hood of the car.

Suddenly the office went quiet and she heard John call after Dean as he walked away. Then he appeared out of the office looking at her like she'd just put his puppy in a blender.

"What?" She asked as he just stood and stared. He opened his mouth and closed it, clearly confused and not to happy about the fact.

"That song-" He started.

"What about it?" She asked slowly, wondering if maybe the man was a little crazy. She sorta liked that about him.

"Um, nothing." He said running a hand through his short hair.

"Going out of my mind." Jack heard Dean mumble to himself.

"Dean, would you mind coming back in here?" John asked walking behind up Dean. What he clearly meant was 'Get your fucking ass in here and tell me why you promised a job to some strange girl.' He looked more than a little pissed at his son.

Jack wondered why she found it easy to read the subtle undercurrents of these two men she'd never met before.

"Dean I gotta tell you about something weird that happened today-" Sam walked fast into the garage then stopped in his tracks when he spotted Jack. She looked at him, he gaped and she gave him a little waved with a wrench still in her hand and grease smudged across her cheeks.

"Hey, Sammy this is Jack, she's our new mechanic." Dean said smiling. He turned to Jack. "This my little brother."

"No she's not." John protested then he turned to Jack. "No offense kid, but I don't know your qualifications. Why the hell did you put her under the hood without my permission?" He demanded of Dean.

"Cause she's our new mechanic." Dean shrugged.

"No she isn't!" John said in what Jack would have called a shriek if the man wasn't twice her size and looking murderous.

"I met her at school." Sam said pointing at Jack looking confused. It seemed to happen a lot to these Winchester men. Not that Jack was fairing much better but she really didn't want to think that she was showing it too much.

"Should I, uh go?" Jack asked feeling a little awkward.

"Yes." John said at the same time his son's said 'No'. John sent twin glares at his sons.

"O-kay." Jack coughed into her hand and rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on and getting more grease smudged on her in the process. Sometimes it paid to be more of a t-shirt and jeans girl, she didn't have to panic over a little dirt.

The elder and younger Winchester men argued over whether they were keeping Jack while she ignored them and put in an afternoon's work on the Mustang.

They settled things as Dean often thought they should settle things; by pushing it aside and going to a bar.

"Hey, Jack. Come on we're going to get drunk and figure this shit out." Dean called from their father's office.

"No you aren't." John growled. Jack wiped grease on her jeans and threw down the radiator hose she'd been looking over, walking to the office door to watch the men bicker.

"Its a welcome to the company drink." Dean said grinning through his feeling of fuckedupedness.(Its a word)

""Its rude not to dad," Sam chimed in nodding. Jack laughed at the earnest look on his face. "She's our new mechanic, we have to. We did for Larry."

"Is Larry coming too?" Jack asked.

"Nah, his old lady won't let him." Dean answered.

"She's not our New Mechanic!" John exploded for the hundredth time. "And you were four when Larry came to work for me, Sam. What do you know?"

"I remember that night, mom was so mad at you for coming home late." Dean said smirking a t the memory.

"That's not the point."

"Than what is?" Jack asked.

"You're right, the point is we need to celebrate Jack being our new mechanic." Dean said standing up with a look of great resolve and determination to get drunk.

"She isn't…I didn't…I-" John sputtered. His damn sons. Who the hell had taught them to talk people in circles that way?

"Don't worry sir, we'll figure it all out at the bar." Jack said cheerfully.

John looked dejectedly between the three. His mouth opened then closed and he finally closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and waving the trio off. He silently wondered if he still had his old rifle and if he could plead insanity if he shot one of them for annoying the hell out of him.

* * *

The bar wasn't crowded, it was one Sam and Dean's favorites to frequent. People didn't bother them there. The three made a beeline for an out of the way, Jack sliding back into one side, her head leaned against the wall and her legs stretched out in front of her on the cheap vinyl seats. She folded her hands behind her head. Dean slid into he and Sam's side of the booth and relaxed.

Sam couldn't shake the feeling of deja vu looking at around him at Dean and the girl. The ordered a round of beers, sitting in silence till their drinks came.

"Who are you?" Dean asked after the waitress brought the order. He held the cold beer bottle to his lips watching Jack.

"Jack Fontenot, your dad's new mechanic." Jack said plucking up her beer.

"Seriously. I feel like…." Dean trailed off.

"I know you." Jack said low.

"Yeah." Sam said.

"This is so weird." Dean said drinking down half his beer.

"Weird can be good." Jack suggested. Dean thought about that for a second and nodded. Sam smiled into his drink, though he wasn't sure why. This right here, it felt like coming home.

"You go to Sammy's school?" Dean asked her on their second round.

"Its Sam." Sam corrected and was promptly ignored.

"Yeah, music major." Jack answered.

"What kind?" Dean asked with genuine interest.

"Piano." Jack said.

"You play piano and you wanna work on cars. Isn't that like against the rules?" Sam asked frowning.

"I'm not all that fragile. Don't need to wear gloves to bed and shit that other people do." Jack wrinkled her nose, still smudged with grease, as they'd gone straight to the bar from the shop.

"How long you been playing?" Dean asked.

"Since I as 'bout five." Jack said squinting trying to remember the exact number.

"What 'bout you? What do you boys do?" Jack asked the brothers.

"Firefighter." Dean answered proudly pointing down at his t-shirt.

"Journalism major." Sam said.

Clark Kent." Jack said grinning.

"More like that geek Jimmy something." Dean cracked.

"Olsen." Jack supplied cracking Dean up even more.

"Shut up." Sam huffed instantly feeling eight again. He highly doubted that this was going to be the last argument that would go this way.

* * *

Dean dropped Jack off before Sam, watching her to make sure she got inside before pulling away. She rolled her eyes at him from the door and flipped them off playfully. Dean returned the gesture.

"Your affection is overwhelming. Its no wonder the ladies all love you." Sam said dryly.

"Don't be jealous Sammy boy. Someday you'll find the right girl and you can give your hand a rest." Dean retorted smoothly.

"You're an ass." Sam said cuffing his older brother upside his head.

"And you're a bitch, but we love you anyway." Dean said in a reassuring voice.

After Dean dropped Sam off he leaned against the elevator wall in his apartment building, waiting for the thing to carry him home. He felt tired, so tired. More tired than he thought he should have been. He frowned, seized by a feeling of panic that blindsided him. He clutched his chest, his heart speeding like a bullet beneath his palm. He only had one clear thought; Sam, something was wrong with Sam.

* * *

That night when Sam walked up the stairs to his room he passed his father's office, the room that was once his nursery and felt a strong urge to go inside. His feet moved of their own avail but when he reached out to turn the knob his hand shook uncontrollably. He grabbed his hand and a pain like nothing he'd ever felt before ripped through his head. He gasped and fell to the ground in front of the door, clutching his skull. He fell forward slightly banging his head against the door and white noise filled his head. Images flitted across Sam's mind's eye. He saw fire, he saw blood, his mother looking sadly at him and saying 'I'm sorry'.

Sam saw a terrible image of a blonde woman pinned to a ceiling, blood dripping from her midsection. Her lips moved in an unheard whisper before she burst into flames.

Sam cried out, tears running down his face. The last thing he saw before he fell unconscious was himself, Dean and Jack. Together. Fighting. Laughing. Worrying fro each other. Mending one another's wounds. Everything after that went black as Sam passed out of the floor.

**TBC……**

**AN: I promise a longer chapter tomorrow after work and another of the AU too. Things are kind of hectic for me. Eighteen hour days and all that good stuff. Till then……**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I own Jack na-na-na-na-na! The rest aren't mine.**

Jack's knees buckled on the stairs, an overwhelming feeling taking over. She fell down the stairs hitting her head on the landing.

'Wrong.' She thought. 'So wrong. It doesn't go like this.' Her eyes rolled in the back of her head. A whisper of a past she couldn't grasp and almost didn't want to passed through her mind.

* * *

Her limbs felt heavy, something was pulling her down. Jack lurched, rolling over the side of the bed, landing on her broken hand. She felt like she was being weighed down by something she couldn't see. She forced herself to her feet, grasping the bedside table, then the wall for support. She dragged herself out of t he bedroom door, swearing in some foggy part of her brain t hat she'd closed that door before going to bed. She only had one thing to keep her from collapsing under the inexplicable exhaustion as she pulled herself down the hall, weakening by the moment.

Sam and Dean. Dean and Sam. Jack had to get to them, she had to make sure they were alright. Something had gotten to them, She didn't know how or why but she did know they'd been attacked by something. Five feet out the door and Jack was crawling on her hands and knees, fighting the pull of whatever spell she was under. A pair of legs appeared fast in her line of vision. She looked up to see a strange man that looked ordinary, a man she could have passed a hundred times on the street. His eyes were wide with surprise seeing her there.

"How did you…" He gasped seeing her. Jack tried to muster the strength to stand, to fight. She had to protect them.

"Won't let you.." She whimpered and her arms wouldn't support her anymore.

"What did you do to me?" She thought.

"Gave you a dream to die in." The man answered. Jack hadn't been aware she'd spoken aloud.

She fought not to succumb but when the man disappeared and reappeared with the red dream catcher Dean had bought, holding it over her prone form, she felt herself start to fall again. The last thing she saw was the supposed safe guard against nightmares, glow with a preternatural light.

* * *

He nearly died from shock when he saw the girl crawling across the hallway at a snails pace. No one was supposed to be able to break free from the dream on their own. It was supposed to be too powerful. First the boy stirred against it and now the girl had actually managed to pull herself from it long enough to leave her bed.

He'd used the dream catcher on her, its proximity working to take her life force faster from her. He had to be careful though, if she died now, her ability would be lost with her. Once she slept again he left her where she was. He could not touch her skin with the protection sigils she had etched into her skin. He checked the other two hunters, saw that they were still under the spell.

* * *

Jack woke to Missouri shaking her gently, saying her name again and again, worry lacing her tone. Jack felt a stab of pain in her head that had nothing to do with a hangover, she'd only had three beers the night before. That wasn't even enough to get her buzzed. She opened her eyes groggily, wincing as the morning light poured in from the windows, stinging her sensitive eyes.

"Are you okay?" Missouri asked helping Jack stand up.

"Think so. What happened?" Jack asked rubbing her throbbing head.

"I found you here this morning. Are you sure you're alright? We should go to the hospital." Missouri said running her hands over Jack's arms, probing for anything broken.

"No, I just….fell?" Jack bit her bottom lip. Her head hurt like a bitch and something wasn't right. She couldn't remember anything after Dean and Sam dropping her off. She had a dull ringing in her ears, her head felt like it was filled with white noise for the time she was missing.

'Maybe I should go to the hospital.' Jack thought letting Missouri lead her into the kitchen and sit her down in a chair. Missouri made a quick cup of coffee for Jack but she just stared into the hot liquid.

"Mo, can you get me my cell phone?" Jack asked rubbing her temples.

"Alright honey." Missouri said gently. Usually she would have asked if Jack's legs were broken and told her to get it herself. Jack smiled a little, head injuries had some perks after all. When Missouri came back with Jack's phone she choked down enough coffee to clear her head a bit and dialed while Missouri clucked and worried over concussions.

Jack clicked through the numbers in her phone till she found the one she needed and dialed. It rang three times and she was about to resign herself to leaving a message when he finally answered.

"Dean, its Jack. Where are you?"

* * *

Dean was at the hospital with Sam, waiting for Sam's appointment to get an MRI. The night before Dean had found his brother passed out in front of their dad's office and had dragged him to his room. When Sam came to he made fast use of the garbage bin next to his bed and told Dean that something was wrong with him. Sam had asked Dean to take him to the hospital and not to tell mom and dad. Dean was surprised when he realized then that he hadn't made a sound upon entering the house and his parents had not stirred at all.

After talking to the E.R. doctor, saying Sam had taken a nasty spill, Sam asked for the procedure to be done. Dean teased him for the next twenty minutes about watching too much 'House M.D.'. Then things became quiet, each man caught up in his own worries.

His phone ringing brought Dean back to the present. He saw Jack's name on the caller i.d. and answered it after only a moment's hesitation.

"Dean, its Jack. Where are you?" She asked in a thick voice.

"Is that Jack?" Sam asked next to him. It was the frost thing he'd said in a long time. Dean nodded and Sam held out his hand for the phone.

"Hold on Sam wants to talk to you." Dean said into the phone, grudgingly handing it over.

"Jack, we're at the hospital. No we're okay…well maybe not okay." Sam said, surprising Dean. Why would he tell someone they barely knew , where they were and not their parents.

'Because this is how we do things.' Dean thought, answering his own question. He swallowed and shook his head. He was starting to think maybe he should be getting the MRI.

"Okay bye." Sam hung up the phone.

"What'd she say?" Dean asked to distract himself from questioning his own sanity.

"Just if we were okay and what hospital we were at." Sam answered leaning his hands against his knees and holding his head in his hands.

"Dean?" Sam whispered after a few minutes of quiet.

"What, Sammy?" Dean asked looking at his brother who was looking intently at his hands.

"Am I going crazy?" Sam asked in a scared, young voice.

"No Sammy. You are not going crazy." Dean said forcefully.

"But these last few days. I-I've been seeing things." Sam stuttered.

"What kinds of things?" Dean demanded. His heart sped up a notch and he felt like he was on the verge of something. Something important that he was missing.

"Just like things in the corner of my eye and when I go to look nothing's there. I thought maybe I was working too hard but-"

"That's what it is." Dean jumped on the first rational explanation he heard. "We're both working too hard. You're not crazy Sam." _I'm not crazy Sam._

"Before I was knocked out I saw something too." Sam said softly.

"What?" Dean asked with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Us." Sam said simply.

* * *

Jack managed to convince Missouri that she didn't need to go to t he hospital, but she was sent straight to bed after eating a quick breakfast.

Laying down in her room, Jack tried to relax. You just took a nasty spill, she told herself. Nothing else. Mo's probably right, its a concussion. Jack pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed her house on impulse. Her mother answered on the first ring.

"Momma." Jack said smiling into the mouth piece.

"Hey baby, shouldn't you be in class?" Annabelle said.

"I work best with lots of breaks and rest." Jack replied.

"Jackie." Annabelle said with a warning tone.

"Mom." Jack said feeling a lump form in her throat. Her mother, hearing the seriousness in that one little word dropped the requisite lecture on ditching school.

"You alright, Jacqueline? You know….you know you can come home right? Say the word and we'll get you a plane ticket home." Annabelle said swallowing so hard Jack heard it through the phone.

Jack thought about it, really thought about it. She couldn't go home. Jack felt that to her bones. Something was happening in Lawrence and she would not turn tail and run.

"No mom. I'm okay. Just a little under the weather." Jack said.

"Are you sure?" Annabelle asked.

"Yeah." Jack replied. "How's my cuz?" Jack asked to turn the subject away from her.

"He's playing the drums on your Auntie's bladder. And poor Maddy has been sending Chris on wild goose chases for food at all hours of the night. She almost eats as much as you these days." Annabelle teased.

"Pickles and ice cream?" Jack asked laughing.

"More like celery with Stay Puff spread." Annabelle replied. Jack snorted.

"That ain't right." She said.

Jack listened to her mother talk about what was happening back home. She let her mom's slow southern lilt sooth her nerves. By the time she hung up she was dozing and her watch read one pm. Time for her favorite class. Jack rolled off the bed, deciding she couldn't stay cooped up in those four walls any longer without a straight jacket. She passed her bathroom catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror and she stopped. Looking sideways at her reflection Jack's hand went to her stomach. She pulled her t-shirt up over her stomach, seeing nothing but fair skin. She frowned.

She caught a look at herself again. Herself but not herself. Her hair was cut short, coming a half inch above her shoulders and her stomach was inked over. Jack blinked and the illusion was gone. Jack grabbed her bag and rushed out of the house. She had to talk to Sam and Dean.

* * *

Sam's MRI came back unremarkable. That pissed him off to no end and he stormed out of the hospital without listening to anything else t he doc had to say.

"Sam! Sam, will you wait up, dude?" Dean called running after Sam in the parking lot. Lanky bastard's legs definitely gave him some speed.

Sam stopped abruptly and Dean banged into his back. He gave Sam a dirty look that his brother returned.

"Its going to be okay." Dean told him.

"How do you know that Dean?" Sam demanded.

"I just do." Dean said trying to sound confident and failing.

"Gimme a ride to school, I can still make a couple of my classes." Sam grumbled resuming walking to the car, more resigned and hunched over than he'd been when he stormed out of the hospital.

"I think you should go home and get some rest." Dean said unlocking the driver's side door.

"Please, Dean. I can't sit around with all this stuff in my head. It'll drive me crazy." Sam said over the hood of the car.

"You look beat to hell." Dean said disapprovingly and Sam knew he'd won. Dean looked tired too from staying up all night with Sam at the hospital He'd called in at work saying he had a family emergency.

"I wanted to talk to Jack anyway." Sam shrugged getting into the car.

"Yeah me too. Some of this weird shit started when she showed up." Dean said.

"I don't think its her fault Dean." Sam chastised.

"Me neither. But I want to know if she's turning into a freak too." Dean clarified.

"Thanks a lot." Sam scowled.

"You're welcome." Dean responded.

"At least we can share a padded cell if she'd going nuts too." Sam said.

"That's the spirit Sammy. Look on the bright side." Dean grinned.

"You've got a pretty fucked up definition of 'bright side'." Sam laughed.

**TBC……**

**AN: Okay anybody who's been getting the creepy crawlies seeing the kids 'normal' will be very happy in the next chapters. The Dream and the Real World are about to collide and John will make his next appearance. Loves on all you guys.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: No **

She was distracted all through class, hitting all the wrong notes like some novice. She ignored the pointed looks she was getting and overlooked a few snide comments she overheard being whispered about her. Her classmates were competitive, it came with the territory. Jack slummed through the class and was the first out the door, hiding behind a stairwell in the hallway. When she saw the Professor and the T.A. leave she slipped back and caught the toe of her shoe in the door before it closed and locked automatically. If it had locked she would have just picked it, Jack found herself thinking as she dropped her bag to the floor and went to the piano, taking a seat.

Jack looked down at her delicate hands. Hands that had never picked a lock in their lives and she felt her fingers buzz with the knowledge that she could do it if she wanted to. She shook her head and lifted the wood to run her finger over the top of the keys. She needed to relax and working with her hands always relaxed her.

Jack took a deep breath and started tapping the opening notes to a favorite song of hers.

_"I find it kind funny, I find it kinda sad/The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had…"_

She sang softly her thoughts turning t o the oddness she'd been experiencing since coming to Kansas. Her fingers faltered on a note and she found that she didn't know which came next. She didn't remember any of them.

* * *

Jack was sitting on a bench close to where she'd had her first run in with Sam the day before. She got as far the campus and then stopped, unable to will herself to actually go to the other classes. She looked down at her black sneakers, kicking her feet against the bottom of the bench. She started humming a song under her breath, tried to get a grip on how lost she was feeling.

"Jack." She looked up and saw Sam jogging towards her with Dean trailing close behind. Jack waved weakly to the brothers.

"Does that hurt?" Dean asked grazing his fingers over the bruise the corner of her temple t hat disappeared into her hair. It felt so familiar and natural for him to do it that he didn't blink at the action and Jack didn't shrug off the probing touch kike she would have with anyone else.

"No its amazing. I always had a thing for falling down the stairs." She replied sarcastically.

"Pain." Dean said poking her bruise.

"Ow!" Jack hit him hard in the chest.

"How'd things go at the hospital?" Jack asked turning to Sam.

"Great we found out Sam really is a girl." Dean cracked earning a death glare from Sam.

"Fine, they said nothings wrong with me." Sam replied.

"What happened?" Jack asked him gesturing for them to sit down on the bench.

"Don't know. Passed out last night after I got home." Sam said sitting down. He looked at the ground in front of him. "Maybe I just had too much to drink."

"You only had like two beers." Jack frowned.

Sam shrugged and rubbed his head, which killed. He looked around them, suddenly feeling too exposed and out in the open.

"Come on." He said getting up from his seat.

The other two followed him without question. He led them towards the library. Once there he kept walking till they were in the far back of the place where few people ventured. As he'd hoped it was empty. He'd always thought it was a little odd that the place he felt most comfortable on the whole campus was the Occult section of the library. Sam sat down against one of the stacks, his back resting comfortably against the tomes. Dean raised an eyebrow at him running a finger along the spine of a book and leaned against the bookshelf facing Sam with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I went to dad's office, I don't know why, I just felt like I had to," Sam started and he blurted out everything that he could remember from the night before fixating on a spot on the floor. He finished and took a deep breath. He was crazy, now they both knew it and he was going to be told to seek professional help.

"What time was it?" Jack asked.

"What?" Sam looked up and caught her serious look.

"What time was it when it happened?" Jack repeated urgently.

"I don't know, around twelve thirty I think. Right after we dropped you off." Sam said shrugging.

Jack nodded and scrubbed her hand over her face. She said, "That's about when I passed out and fell down the stairs. I don't remember much after going inside."

"That's when I felt…" Dean trialed off not knowing how to describe what he'd felt.

"What? What happened Dean?" Sam asked sitting up straighter.

"I don't know. Geeze Sammy," Dean blew out a breath. He hated this shit. "I had this feeling like….I thought something might be wrong with you and I-

"Had a panic attack?" Sam supplied.

"No!" Dean replied vehemently. "I was concerned and knew I had to get over here."

"Did you pass out?" Jack asked.

"No I-" Dean didn't get to finish his sentence because that was when the walls started to flicker.

* * *

Dean was in the car, sitting in the passenger side, dozing as they passed a lot of nothing. He looked out the window and knew somehow that he was in Texas, driving- driving to- nowhere. They had a couple days of wandering aimlessly, just driving for the hell of it. He felt peaceful. He looked at Sam watching the road and arguing in light tones with someone in the backseat at the same time. Dean turned in his seat to see Jack laughing and shaking her head at Sam while he nodded up and down, contesting whatever it was she was saying. Dean couldn't hear their words clearly, he thought he heard something about Resident Evil being underrated from Sam and Jack telling him he was an idiot.

Dean smiled and pushed his sunglasses down. His brother laughed and Dean heard himself think that his brother didn't do that nearly enough.

Then the conversation turned to a topic that should have been more disturbing than it was.

"Favorite way to kill a werewolf?" Jack asked.

"Classic silver bullets. Its quick and less messy." Sam replied.

"Beheading sounds cooler when you brag about bagging a werewolf." Dean said.

"Who are you going to brag too? Its just us." Jack pointed out.

"You know, chat rooms, blogs, the occasional drunk waitress…."

"Tell me you're not serious." Sam said looking over at Dean.

"Dean….?"

"Dean?!"

* * *

"Dean?!" Sam was shaking his brother by his shoulders, calling his name over and over.

One second Dean was talking to them then his eyes went wild and glazed over seconds later, Dean going completely still. He'd looked straight ahead like he was seeing something that wasn't there. Dean had slumped backwards and Sam caught him by the shoulders before his head hit the bookshelf. He looked up at Jack who'd moved silently to the edge of the stacks to keep watch for anyone coming their way. Sam thought for a second about calling for help but he waved away the thought. Nothing good came of getting outsiders involved. Instead he took the keys to the Impala from his brother's pocket and tossed them in Jack's direction. She caught them and nodded, leaving without being asked to get the car and bring it round.

He had to get Dean out the back, Sam thought. He hoisted his brother up, one shoulder under Dean's unresponsive form to support him. He had a feeling like this wasn't the first time he'd done this. He was working completely from instinct.

* * *

John parked the truck two miles from the house and took a path he'd marked on a map of the area. It was a secluded path in the best of weather, in the snow, during winter it was completely abandoned. He skulked around the area, watching for signs that things were awry. He had nightmare visions in his head about everything that could have possibly happened, all of which were completely plausible given their line of work.

It had been days. Days since the fight with Dean and days since the horrible feeling in his gut started. He hoped he wasn't too late. Right then John would rather find that he was paranoid than think that he was too late.

John drew his guns from his coat as he got closer. From his focal point in the edge of the woods John noticed too things; that the Impala was covered in at least two days worth of snow and that there were footprints in the snow a few feet away going from the tree line to the house. Growling under his breath at the thought of the mystery intruder John walked forward, stealthily.

He kept low and to the shadows cast by the setting sun as he neared the steps and stuck to the sides as he ascended them. John checked the door, finding it unlocked. That more than anything else convinced him that something was terribly wrong, Dean would never make such an amateur mistake. Neither would Sam or Jack.

* * *

Dean was being pulled in two directions. One guided by brother's voice, worried and insistent and the other by the sound of a blood curdling scream. He jerked back to himself and struggled for a brief moment. He was being carried, or half carried anyway by someone taller than him.

"Dean its okay, man." Sam said urgently compensating for Dean's outburst so he wouldn't lose his footing and send them both tumbling to the ground. Halfway down the steps to the emergency back exit Dean snapped out of whatever trance he'd fallen into. Jack got out from behind the wheel to help him out but Dean shrugged them both off and pulled away, turning his back to the two so he could catch his breath.

Dean felt his heart pound a mile a minute. Everything was distorted, twitching in and out of focus. Like a movie that's film was breaking mid-scene.

Sam and Jack waited for him to regain his composure, the minutes blending into one another.

Dean turned back to them and opened his mouth. He was interrupted by a scream that echoed all around them.

Dean's mouth snapped closed. He ran to his car, taking the keys out of the ignition and crossed around to the trunk. Dean popped the trunk unsure of what to expect when he opened it. He felt a grim sort of satisfaction mixed with surprise to reach in and pop a secret compartment to reveal more weapons than he'd ever seen before. No, he thought reaching for a silver handgun that fit his hand like it was made to go there, you've seen these before. He recalled that the gun was a Colt M1911. One of his favorites guns, his father's old gun.

"Sam, Jack. Arm up." Dean said automatically.

"Where did you get all these?" Sam said with wide eyes.

"I don't know, I think-I think I had them all along." Dean said looking his brother in the eye.

"This is mine." Sam said picking up a knife that had a thick metal hand grip and a curving razor sharp blade. Sam picked it up looking at it in wonder, like greeting an old friend he wasn't sure he wanted to see again.

"Mine." Jack said pick up two mother of pearl handled .45's each inscribed with Latin along the barrels. She gave the boys a dangerous smile.

"This is fucked up." Sam said even as he reached for a black Berreta. He checked the clip, popped it back in place and took off the safety.

Another scream cut through the air and they looked at one another before setting off side by side, falling quickly the sounds of terror. It was the first time Sam noticed that the campus was empty. They were the only ones in sight.

"What are we doing?" He asked softly looking around him.

"I don't know." Jack answered.

They entered the building the screams were coming from, confronting the lies they had been trapped in.

**TBC…….**

**AN: That's right, I'm Back in Black kiddies. I'll have the next chapter up before I leave for GA on Monday. I'm off to write for the other story now. Happy Holidays!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I wish**

John walked through the house cautiously. He checked the top levels of the house before going anywhere else, checking for the intruder. When he found nothing he returned to the bottom floor and turned down a hall.

There he saw Jack unconscious on the floor, a dream catcher crumpled on the ground next to her. It glowed with preternatural light that stretched between it and the girl, a line of energy connecting Jack to it.

John quickly grabbed the thing up and ran to the bedroom doors lining the halls.

In the first bedroom Dean lay on a bed tossing and turning, fighting weakly. John saw with revulsion his eldest son's grey skin and that his chest barely rose and fell as he struggled to breath. The dream catcher above his bed mocked John. He put his gun down beside Dean's prone form and reached over the headboard for the damned object.

"If you touch that, everyone dies." John spun around to face his enemy.

"You." He growled in surprise and fury.

* * *

"What is this? What are we doing here?" Sam asked as they walked through the building.

"Someone's in trouble." Jack said. The halls had gone quiet. An eerie heavy quiet that screamed on its own.

Sam nodded and looked straight ahead to a place that wasn't clear or clean anymore.

The lights went dark and Dean immediately put himself ahead of the others. The walls narrowed and he stopped thinking anything was impossible. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this place, that it wasn't the school, it was-

A shadow slithered across his eye line and Dean fired, his thoughts jumping ferociously only to protecting what was his. He shot twice and the bullets buried themselves in the walls, completely missing the shadow. He turned fast to follow it but it was already gone.

"Shit." Sam breathed. He was looking a long wolf like thing that snarled at him, coming forward in slow stop motion steps. His mind flickered with some archaic knowledge.

_Wendigo_

The word came into his mind and set up shop. Wendigo's hunt in heavily wooded area's, they human flesh and organs. Wendigo's, he thought, his eyes flicking to Jack, don't like fire.

The thing lunged for him before he could voice his new knowledge and Sam rolled out of the way quickly. He looked up and down the halls, searching for something he could use against the thing. Just then he felt a rush of ice cold at his back and a pale as death hand crept over his shoulder and over his chest and he felt like he was being torn to pieces from the inside out. His mind was invaded by violent images. He threw his head back, looking up at the ceiling and the image flickered of a blonde girl pinned there, bursting into flames.

_Jessica. God, no, Jess._

Dean followed, transfixed, the movements of the eyeless woman as she circled him. He felt the urge t o reach out and touch her to see if she was real but his hand only hovered over the cold air between her hand and his. He saw himself in the emptiness where her eyes should have been, smashing the mirror that once held her. He saw himself holding Sam, wiping the blood from his eyes. The girl looked up at him and Dean's eyes began to bleed before he could understand the vision he was seeing.

Jack shot at the creature coming at Sam only to see a woman appear at his back and then Sam was writhing in pain, trying to get away but he couldn't. She had an idea and barely hesitated because she had nothing else to go on but the voice in her head telling her what to do. She fished through her pocket as fast as she could till she found the old Zippo lighter she kept for luck. Jack took a breath, lit it up and threw it at the monster, watching it catch fire immediately and disintegrate, leaving not even a scorch mark as evidence it was ever there.

The ghostly women disappeared with the Wendigo, faded out of existence as soon as he was gone, leaving the three bewildered people to only look at each other in wonder. Sam's knees buckled, he caught himself on the wall before he fell to the ground.

'What the hell are we?' He thought choking on a sob. His brain kept getting scrambled images of things. Things that couldn't possibly be real and true.

"Are you-?" Jack started before being pushed up against the wall by an invisible attacker. She clenched her fists around her guns so she wouldn't drop them and just as she was about to panic at not being able to see her adversary a hot shuddering breath heated her throat and she could see him.

An impossibly beautiful man, whose eyes glowed blue like an electrical charge. Desire stirred through her and revulsion. She wasn't in the building anymore, she was in an alley. She could cold bricks against her back and smell exhaust fumes from too many cars, sweat and booze from too many people in one place.

"I see you. All of you. Not so different you and I." He hissed against her throat, his teeth grazing her skin.

"Not like you." Jack gasped out and kicked him hard in the groin.

It was over as fast as it started, he seemed to meld into the shadows with a mocking gleam to his eyes.

_Succubus. Damn fucking succubae. _

Jack stopped questioning the information that was coming out of nowhere into her head. She shook her head clear, she was back in the building, although in a different room, separated from the brothers.

"Fuck." She said aloud and ran through the door. She was in one looked like an abandoned hospital, archaic and decayed with time.

* * *

Dean and Sam looked all around for Jack, but she just disappeared.

"What the hell is this place?" Dean asked scanning their surroundings with his eyes. Taking in broken walls marked with graffiti and equipment scattered and smashed everywhere.

"Don't worry. I'm going to help you." A voice slithered into his subconscious.

"Dean!" Sam shouted and Dean turned in time to see a disfigured, sinister old man appear behind him. Dean was so surprised that the man managed to clamp his hands on either side of Dean's head and he felt red hot fury being pushed inside his mind, trying to take over.

Sam shot and it went straight through the man, but he kept shooting till them ghost disappeared and Dean was left kneeling and panting on the floor.

"What the hell were you shooting at it for, you know bullets don't work on themm." Dean rasped.

"Shut up." Sam said because he did know, but that didn't change anything and helped Dean to his feet. Dean shrugged him off and straightened his jacket, slightly embarrassed.

"Sonuvabitch." Dean coughed.

"Dean. Sam." They heard Jack calling them, along with the steady tromp of boots as she ran down the halls looking for them.

"In here." Sam called back.

Jack literally skidded to a stop when she heard Sam's voice. She approached the door it came from cautiously, vowing a hundred kinds of bodily harm to whoever had replied if it was just a trap. Jack kicked the heavy hospital room door and pointed her guns at the men on the other side.

"Hi." Dean waved a little. Jack breathed in relief and lowered her weapons.

"This is all one big mind fuck." Sam said.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean demanded.

"I'm seeing things in my head, remembering things that never happened. I know what these things are and you guys do too." Sam explained his voice rising.

Neither could say anything to this. Dean felt more than remembered the sound of a gun going off once upon a time and how his chest burned from the rock salt embedded there after. His mind was clawing to remember things, telling him how to fight these monsters, how to breathe again.

"Should we stay put or keep moving?" Jack asked him eyeing the door bracing for the next attack.

"Keep moving. Find a way to get out of here." Dean said with more confidence than he possessed.

* * *

"Traitor." John hissed at the man holding him at gunpoint.

"Found the winning side John." Carl Rhodes said with blacked out eyes.

"I'm going to kill you for this, you know that right?" John said indicating at his son, laying helpless, his life being drained away from him.

"You won't get the chance John. Besides the others were never yours to begin with." Carl told him shaking his head. He cocked his handgun and aimed at John's chest.

* * *

The monsters were everywhere, as they soon found out, walking out into the long twisting corridor. Together theyy ran through the halls, stopping only if one of the others faltered in any way. A dark, dripping horse like creature oozed from the fungi on a wall and Dean saw children dying. A rotting, lurching ghostlike figure rounded a corner and Sam heard stomping and cheering from elsewhere, drowning out screams and gun shots.

"I love that someone as beautiful and powerful as you can't stop me." A man's voice ghosted all around the trio. Sam and Dean were held back as a man putting a crushing arm around Jack neck.

"Yes I can." Jack said and slammed her head backwards into his face, shattering his nose. Sweat burning in her eyes Jack turned and her mind showed her this man with his claws extended over her beaten form in the snow, Dean on his back, screaming and terrified for her. She saw Sam come to the rescue saying something and then pulling the trigger so that the man, Brian's, skull shattered.

Then Jack was confronted by something she couldn't have ever seen coming. They were nearing a pair of double doors and standing in front of them was her uncle. Bloody and dirty, all cut up and bruised looking at her with desperate, wild eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you." He sobbed with such terror in his voice. Jack was frozen where she stood. Her head blasted with pain, something dark and excruciating trying to get out and every instinct trying to keep it back in the darkest part of her mind.

* * *

"Mom?" Dean asked when his mother began walking towards them from across the corridor.

"Mom what are you doing here?" Sam asked fearfully. Their mother just kept walking towards them. Her eyes were endlessly sad, so filled with reget Sam felt trapped by it.

'She's leaving again.' Dean thought. 'She's going to leave you the way everyone else has.'

"Sam, I'm so sorry." Mary said cupping her youngest son's cheek.

"Mom, please. Please don't go away again." Dean begged stumbling towards her. She turned her head to him and closed her eyes slowly.

She walked away from them, moving the way the ghosts had in that disturbing chopped image way. Mary turned her back to her boys and was consumed by flames.

"Mom! No!" Dean tried to run to her, he tried to save her but Sam held him back. He fought against Sam trying to get to her, dragging Sam with him to the fire.

* * *

Chris flickered and died away, replaced by a man with dark hair and a cruel smile. Jack seethed. She instinctively hated this man. This rage was the strongest emotion Jack had ever felt and it was chopped and held together with grief that screamed through ever fiber of her being and hopelessness that made her want to kill him and scorch the world if she had to.

Something built up inside her, pressure starting deep in her mind and blasting free from its cage. Her eyesight went dark for a second and pain coursed through her head as the man standing not two feet from her caught fire spontaneously. He screamed, clawing at himself while she watched.

* * *

Carl started to pull the trigger when the hallway caught fire. His head snapped around him and his jet black heart sped up a notch as he ran back into the hallway, forgetting about John Winchester. His only thoughts were on the girl and that she might've have awoken.

He saw her still lying unconscious in the hall, surrounded by fire that burned everything around her.

"That was a stupid mistake, but not your first one." John said putting his gun to Carl's head.

"Your first was fucking with my family." John said.

* * *

Dean fell to his knees as his mother burned up and there was nothing left of her to save. Sam collapsed hard on him, unable to compensate in time for Dean's fall.

Sam held onto Dean as he breathed raggedly trying to get himself back together. Sam was surprised to find that he felt more guilt than grief at watching their mother die. He felt a deep dark knowledge that this was his fault and that nothing he did would ever make up for taking Dean's mother from him. He closed his eyes against the torrent of emotions and saw once again the young woman pinned to the ceiling, he saw her smile when she was alive, he saw himself happy.

Dean could only see his mother dying and the monsters closing in on them.

'Everything starts with her dying.' He thought to himself. He remembered years of training, hunting, killing. He saw his father's desperate quest and all the pain that encompassed their lives. He was helpless to stop it all from coming back to him, killing whatever innocent façade he could keep going about the lives they'd been led to think were theirs. He wasn't a firefighter who hung out with the guys on the weekend and ditched blind dates with his mother's friends' daughters, nieces, whatever. He was a hunter who could count his friends on one hand and still have a few fingers left over. He was a son without a mother and would always in some way be left alone. He was a brother who never got to be a child.

Dean remembered everything now. And it killed him in ways he hadn't thought possible.

**TBC……**

**AN: In case you were wondering, yes I'm trying to break your heart. I'm actually on the road as I write this. See how great I am, writing for y'all on my 'vacation'. Who loves you, huh? Various baddies from their lives fetured here and a lot of this chapter was inspired by the UK promo for Supernatural. If you haven't seen it, go over to youtube and check it out.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: Don't sue me, I own nothing but my oc's. You wouldn't get much even if you did sue, anyway.**

Dean's legs buckled and Sam had to hurry to catch him before he fell. Dean thought fleetingly that that was supposed to be his job, to catch Sam before he fell. He laughed mirthlessly at himself.

"Its not real, none of it was real." Dean croaked. He heard the heavy slap of sneakers against stone floor and Jack was staggering into his line of sight, not hesitating to hoist one arm under his, to help Sam support Dean's weight.

"We can control this." Jack said. "Its all in our heads."

"How do you know that?" Sam asked.

"I saw something and my head…I didn't want it, I concentrated and it changed. It hurt but I forced him out then he was gone." Jack said biting the inside of her mouth to keep her emotions at bay.

"We can control this." She said certainly.

Dean traced the cracks in the wall with his eyes. Control? Yeah, he thought. They had to control this, whatever it was if they wanted to get out alive. It was all coming back to him now. The other two didn't know yet and looking from Sam to Jack he wanted so badly to let them have this illusion for just a few more precious seconds, minutes, hours. An illusion where Jack was musician away from home for the first time and Sam could go to sleep at night and not be afraid of what he'd see when he closed his eyes. A life where the world didn't need them anymore and they could belong only to themselves.

"Dean? Dean, c'mon, man snap out of it." Jack said shaking his shoulder. Dean swallowed, nodded and untangled himself from his friends.

"This way." He said pointing down a corridor to their right.

"How do you know?" Sam asked looking down the darkened hall.

"I've been here before." Dean said starting ahead of them.

Monsters waited for them there. He'd be ready this time.

* * *

No sooner did John get the upper hand, that he lost it again. John was pulling the trigger, fully prepared to end this man, when the fire flared up higher, catching him off guard and he had to fall back to avoid being burned. He'd never fully contemplated the level of control Jack had over her abilities till that control was gone and the fire raged unabated. Flames climbed the walls, surrounding the girl and consuming the hallway.

He saw Carl wave his arm frantically, trying to fan out the flames. John looked behind him at the bedrooms his sons were trapped in. If he was going to stop this he'd have to use the fire to his advantage and have faith that Jack's subconscious wouldn't let her hurt the boys inadvertently.

Carl ran towards the front of the house, no doubt escaping, but all John could see was the fire threatening to devour them all.

* * *

Jack spun out of the way, going to her knees and stabbing outward with the blade she'd found in her back pocket. She shot with her gun hand at the large, snarling feline. She felt hot all over, flushed and her energy was leaving her. The cat sprang and Jack fell back, raising her knife. She plunged the blade into the cat's chest cavity and twisted to find the heart of the beast. It fell to the side in a thrashing, sizzling heap, its claws grazing her bare skin painfully.

Sam felt like something was just on the edges of his vision, something picking away at his mind, waiting to come out. He saw his mother burning every time he blinked, the image hurt too much, and yet it didn't. Like the woman that burned wasn't someone he knew. He dodged a creature his overwrought brain could put no name to and shot at it automatically, aiming for the heart, watching the thing dissipate.

Dean was throwing himself at anything and everything that came near them with a look that hovered between homicidal and suicidal. He looked ready and willing to die but determined to take as many of these bastards down with him as he could.

Dean was thinking that very thing at the moment.

* * *

John bounded into Dean's room with fire on his heels. The smoke hadn't filtered into the bedrooms yet but it wouldn't be long before it did. John yanked the dream catcher off the wall, the connection still not breaking and ran back into the hallway and across to Sam's bedroom. Sam was so still John checked his pulse to make sure he was still alive, his heart thundering in his chest all the while. Sam's heart beat was a thready whisper, and his breathing was shallow and shot to hell.

John pulled his dream catcher off the wall above his bed and rushed back out into the hall. The last one was lying next to Jack between her and the fire. The flames edged in as he watched, getting closer to the prone huntress. He smelt her hair when a strand caught fire and he ran back into Sam's room as fast he could, dousing his jacket in water.

John wrapped himself in the sopping leather and clutching the two other dream catchers ran right into the fire. It was unbearably hot, he fought down the terrible fear that it all evoked, the memories, in his effort to reach Jack before she was consumed. John let go of the dream catchers and kicked Jack's into the flames before reaching down to hoist her, none to gently over his shoulder. John spared a last glance as the heat flared around the cursed objects, reacting like they were gas to the raging element. He turned his back and brought Jack into Dean's bedroom.

John tossed Jack onto the bed next to Dean and ran back out to grab Sam from his bed. Dragging the man from one room to the other, John hoped to God that the spell would be broken when he destroyed the dream catchers. He had to get the kids out of the house, before it burned to the ground.

John lowered Sam next to the other two and picked up a chair from the corner, throwing it with all his strength at the bank of windows, shattering them. The cold air from outside rushed in cutting painfully against the heat inside. John took his jacket off and went to the bed. He coughed, the smoke choking the breath from his lungs every time he inhaled.

Fuck, they looked even worse. Dean's skin as grey as the overcast sky and clammy. Jack's face red from close contact with flames.

And Sam's chest had stopped its stuttering rise and fall.

* * *

Sam fell to the ground, coughing hard. He wrapped his arm around his midsection and put a hand to his forehead, pain shooting through his skull. He cried out in pain. Every vision he'd ever had flowed back to him, every nightmare crashing in on the lie. Jess. Mom. Dad. The Hunt. Dean. Jack. No. Nononopleaseno.

He grit his teeth in agony and fury. Someone had taken it from him. Someone had taken Jess, her smile, her laugh, her way of kissing the darkness away. Somebody had stolen that from him. And now it was all coming back and with it the feeling of losing her all over again. Something ripped the life he'd made with his brother and Jack on the road, to pieces.

"Sam-" Dean choked, tasting smoke in his mouth out of nowhere. He could see the exit door, it was just within reach. His eyes blurred, watering and heat licked at his back, a blistering cold at his front. If he could get there, he could save them, protect them from the dream.

Jack slumped to the ground. She felt like her strength was being pulled out of her, her stomach turned and the room spun and tilted dangerously. Her head filled with pictures, a life different than the one she'd know. No mother. No father. No peace.

Everything went dark.

"Sammy. Dean. John." She whispered falling forward onto the ground.

* * *

John spread his jacket over the window sill so his kids wouldn't get hurt on the glass. He grabbed Jack first since she was the lightest of the three. He put her through the window, leaning hard against the jagged sill and dropped to the few remaining feet into the cold snow. Behind him the fire breached the doorway. John forced the panic back and pulled Sam up from the bed, putting him over his left shoulder. John nearly sagged with relief when he caught the faint sound of Sam's heart beat close to his ear.

The glass sliced through the jacket when John pushed Sam over it, leaving a gash in John wrist and an angry slice in his son's side. He tagged it as one more thing he had to make amends for when they were awake again. One more thing he'd have to answer for.

Dean was heavy in his arms, dead weight. John felt the wheeze of his own breath. John fought not to fall into a coughing fit again, he'd drop Dean and the fire was right there at their backs. He grit his teeth forcing his legs to stay steady as he pulled Dean to the windows.

No time. No time left. He heard the distant sound of sirens and put his foot up on the sill, falling through it with Dean in tow.

Landing hard, John groaned loudly, barely recognizing his own voice.

The fire crackled inside the room, the sirens got closer. Must have been a fire alarm inside the house, he thought. John stayed perfectly still. He needed to check them. He needed to see if Dean and Sam and Jack were okay. Summoning the stony calm center in him John turned over painfully and half crawled to Sam. He put his finger to his son's throat and felt a wave of absolute terror. He felt no pulse there. Nothing. Stillness.

Then-

Jack coughed and gasped fro breath, arching up from the snow, her eyes wide with shock. She turned over and clutched her chest as she sputtered, snow dripping through soot on her cheeks.

Dean came next, moaning and writhing. John, his hand still on the non existent pulse beat of Sam's neck, reached out with his other hand to rest on Dean's face as he coughed up black smoke and bile.

"C'mon Sammy." John begged facing his eldest. Sam's eye lids fluttered and opened once, to look bewildered into John's.

Sam mouthed something that looked like 'Dad'. John nodded and fell back when he felt the stutter of Sam's pulse.

**TBC……..**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: All I want for Christmas are Sam and Dean, barring that, an mp3 player will do.**

**AN: This story has taken twice as long as all the rest. Had a busy month, my writing caught kind of the brunt of the neglect.**

Sam wheezed weakly, unable to conjure the strength to open his eyes. He felt himself being lifted, pulled somewhere. His bare feet dragged limply through the snow. Snow. He was aware of snow surrounding him, cold and wet, washing away the heat from before. His stomach roiled, the taste of smoke thick on his tongue.

Sam forced his eyes open a crack, seeing blinding white interspersed with dark shapes he couldn't make it. He tried to form the words. Tried to call out to the person he could barely make out before and wasn't in his sight line now.

'Dad' No words left his lips. He tried again and then his lips stopped being able to move at all. His body was going into shock, his brain told him. He tried to fight it but there was nothing left to fight with, just his mind telling him he had to know how they were before he let himself fall. He had to stay there long enough to make sure they'd gotten through-what? What the hell had happened? He couldn't remember anything. Going to sleep and then this. Everything else was static buzzing around the back of his brain, deafening him as it grew louder.

* * *

John pulled them as far from the house as he could, hearing t he sirens come closer till they were right there. He stood guard over the three while the fire was put out, watching it with a sense of detachment. His responses when questioned were automatic, he barely knew what he said, filing it away for later reference the way he did every other lie that kept him one step ahead of the law. He showed a badge from the Boston police, saying he'd transport the three to a hospital and be back to the scene of the fire later, even got a couple of young fire fighters to help get them into his truck.

Then he was off.

Mark was not happy about the condition of his summer home, but he feared John Winchester enough not to make a scene when he arrived at the house flashing a badge and an 'I'll kill you if you talk' smile. The fire tore up the hallway and the room Dean had been staying in, leaving its mark on the rest. Even being supervised by the Fire Marshall John was able to get their things together and get them into his truck to take back to the cabin he'd taken the liberty of borrowing several miles away from the house. They'd sort through the burnt things later. Mark lied and said that Dean's car was his, he'd left it there last time he was in town.

His intelligence was questioned for leaving a classic to rust in the snow, but his story was believed.

"I'll pick it up later at your hotel." John whispered briefly to the man when he slipped Dean's keys into the man's hand. He squeezed a warning into the man's hand, leaving red, key-shaped welts.

"Who's going to pay for my-" He started to ask John but he was already walking away.

Back at their ill-gotten cabin, the waylaid hunters rested. John hadn't left the place till he'd gotten each one reasonably settled in and the house rigged up like the friggin paranormal Pentagon. Jack was hard up, still deeply asleep with minor burns. Sam tried to wake up several times but couldn't make it, his mouth formed words that is smoke raw throat couldn't voice. John had a feeling what he was trying to ask though.

"They're fine Sam. Taken care of." John assured gruffly. Playing nursemaid wasn't something he was used to, he hadn't done it since the boys were very young.

Dean worried him, he was so still. He wasn't fighting to wake up, he was barely moving. He opened his eyes one day, located Sam and Jack with them and then closed them again, that was all. He wasn't fighting anymore.

It felt like a long time but was in fact just a couple of days before they were up and around. Nearly forty hours straight of sleep for each. All there was to do when not cleaning an old wound or grabbing water for someone waking to cough up smoke, was count hours.

"What happened, dad?" Sam asked hoarsely at breakfast that morning. He stared into his father's eyes with an intensity that was shaking. They sat around a table in the living room.

"Your dream catchers were bewitched. They were made to steal a person's vitality from them, basically you go to sleep and never wake up." John explained. "I think I've pinpointed the spell he used."

"Who did this?" Jack asked, her voice like ice and gravel.

"A man named Cark Rhodes." John paused drawing in a breath, "A hunter."

Dean's head snapped up from looking down at his plate of cold eggs and toast.

"What?" He ground out.

"He was a hunter once. Went dark." John answered simply.

"Great, so now hunters are after us too?!" Dean slammed his fist down on the table. It was the most emotion he'd shown since they got there. Dean pushed away from the table and crossed the small room to the couch, looking away from them all.

"He isn't a hunter anymore Dean." John replied.

"Oh yeah? that spell was made specifically for us. He tracked us, disarmed us and was going to kill us. That sounds a lot like hunting to me." Jack said dully, like she was just stating facts.

"He's evil." John said brooking no argument. "You are not being hunted by hunters."

He got no reaction from anyone. Despair hung heavy in the room around them. John had no idea what caused this and nobody was filling in the blanks for him, much to John's frustration. They'd gotten so good at keeping secrets from him. A little voice in the back of his head reminded him that he'd been doing just that to them for years. He was still doing it to them.

"Dad, maybe we should do this later." Sam suggested, the level headed one for change.

"I'm going to go make some calls." John said nodding. He got up from the table and walked outside, pulling his coat closer against the cold.

"Good news," John walked back into the house with resolve. "I think I have a lead on Carl. He can't have that much of a head start we can still catch him." He expected them to want to go gunning after the bastard, get answers and get even for what happened to them. Dean acknowledged what his dad said with a nod. 

Jack was perched on the windowsill as far across the room as she could get, looking at the snow falling lightly outside. Sam sat next to Dean on the couch, reading through the symbols in the Jack's journal. She looked at John then back out the window. None of them spoke a word, retreating into their private worlds, away from each other and away from him.

"What the hell happened back there?" John demanded in exasperation. "You've been like ghosts since we got here."

"We've only been here for a couple of days." Sam said defensively.

"What aren't you telling me?" John asked stepping further into the room. He immediately felt like an intruder.

"It was an illusion." Jack said without turning to look at him. "It was a sneak peak at how it should've been. If-"

"If there'd been no fire, no hunting. If our families had lived and we were all normal." Sam finished when she broke off.

Understanding came fast and John felt even more like an outsider.

* * *

Dean aimed the shotgun and fired at his makeshift target across the empty space behind the cabin. He barely noticed it hit dead center, he'd already dropped it to the ground grabbing his handguns and firing the targets he'd set up on either side of the main one.

Sam watched Dean reload his guns with cool dispassion. He shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched deeper into his coat, walking across the clearing to stand by his brother.

"Dean." Sam said hoping Dean would know already why he was out there.

"Go back inside Sammy." Dean said popping a full clip into his favorite gun. The one that Sam had never seen Dean without.

"Dean you can't do this. It isn't fair. I was there too man. I need you to talk to me about this." Sam said looking down. Every time he thought about it he felt his throat close up. Not for himself, for Dean. Seeing his mother had been a bittersweet thing for Sam, he had no idea who she was before her death, beyond what Dean had told her. He knew he loved her, but the grief he felt after waking from the dream was nothing compared to what he knew Dean was feeling.

"I'm fine Sam." Dean said tersely.

"No you aren't I know you aren't, dad knows it, hell Jack knows it." Sam argued.

"So what are you guys planning an intervention later. Sit me down, make me open up. Maybe we can all have a group hug later." Dean snapped putting his gun in his back pocket. He bent down to start dismantling his shotgun to go back in the cabin. Anything to escape t his conversation.

"Dean-"

"It was mom! Sam, it was mom." Dean spun on Sam. His voice was rough and his eyes gleamed with moisture. Sam stood stock still. He'd been bracing himself for this. Dean had two modes. Avoidance and Defensive. He either put grass under you or he force fed you the details till you choked on them.

"She was there and she felt real. Everything about her was the way it should have been." Dean pushed on, "I remember things and I have to keep reminding myself they weren't real. You never hurt your leg falling out of tree at the elementary school in Lawrence, you broke it when a werewolf grabbed you on a hunt. I got fished hooked by a skin walker and lost a couple of teeth, I didn't bust my mouth my first week as a Probie with the fire department."

"I remember that." Sam sniffed. Two timelines filled his head, making It hard to know what was what. He'd started to sift through them by believing t he most painful ones were the real memories, the darkest were his.

"What do you want me to say Sam?" Dean demanded his voice cracking. He stopped closed his eyes, jamming the heels of his palms into his eyes then looked back at Sam.

"Go back inside Sam." Dean said with an unsteady voice.

"Thank you Dean." Sam said. He let it hang in the air between them and walked away.

"For what?" Dean called.

"Even in the dream you always took care of me." Sam said. He started on his way again.

Dean watched Sam walk away. Cold air nipped at the raw skin on his face. The pain in his chest that had only seemed to grow as days went on consumed him. He walked back to his guns, laid out on a blanket on the ground. He dismantled the shotgun, setting the pieces neatly beside on another. He took the clips out of the guns he hadn't used, placing them to the side, catalogued in his head which ones he would leave out for cleaning and maintenance later. He rolled up the blanket, shoving it all inside the gun bag.

Dean breathed in and out calmly. He took out his gun, the one that fit his hand like it was made especially for him. A snowflake dropped on his shoulder and Dean aimed at the tree furthest from him and squeezed the trigger. The sound and acrid gun powder smell rang in his ears and burned his nose. A familiar sound and feel. A pain he was used to.

He calmly popped the clip out and sat down on top of his bag, burying his face in his gun wielding hand.

**TBC……..**

**AN: Next chapter will be Jack and Sam dealing with waking up and then the Epilogue. Wanted it done before tomorrow night's episode so I could start working John's secret and more of Season 2 into the series. Till then, reviews are my brand of heroin so feed my addiction please.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: Does owning my own insanity count? No? Didn't think so. On with the show.**

Sam was surprised at how easy it was for him to come to grips with what had happened to them. It hurt, like a sonuvabitch but he'd coped. The life they'd been shown had been everything he wanted growing up, everything he'd imagined having for his kids someday, back when he thought about those kinds of things. Something had been missing however from the little trip to dream world.

Jessica.

Once Jack said it was worse to forget. He understood that now.

* * *

Jack packed up all her weapons and shoved them in trunk of the Impala, as far from her as she could get. She knew herself too well to keep t hem near. On her best days Jack held on by a few scant threads. She could feel herself inching towards that place again, that dark place that nearly consumed her once before. She didn't trust herself with a gun or knife right now. Last thing Jack needed was to give into the need to look for a fight with whoever or whatever rose to the occasion.

Something was pushing close to the surface something worse than any monster or nightmare. Something that everything else seem like a walk in the park. It was in the blank space that was her memory. Whatever she'd pushed away and buried was stirred by that cruel illusion. No it was best not to push that fine line. Too easy to loose it then.

She spent hours moving past these destructive thoughts, finally finding some kind of equilibrium. She looked up the ceiling. Feeling something like smile tug at her lips.

Jack got up from the couch where she'd been sleeping since their arrival and poured herself some coffee in the kitchenette. The smell made her think of breakfast surrounded by her family. Of Maddy bitching about not being able to drink real coffee while she was pregnant.

_"I blame you for this."_ She glare at Chris as he worked on his second cup of the stuff.

_"You adore me." _He'd retort getting up to refill his cup just to annoy her.

That wasn't real. Jack looked down into her cup, feeling hollow and tired of trying to wrap her head around this. She downed her drink, it was lukewarm, Sam must have made it hours ago. He always left the coffee maker on for a couple of hours to keep it hot, when they had a coffee maker available to them. Man couldn't cook worth a damn but he could make a great cup of coffee, Jack thought affectionately.

"Hey." Sam said walking in through the front door. He looked worse for wear. She could tell by the sadness in his eyes that he'd spoken to Dean.

Jack opened her mouth to speak when gunshots rang out, fast and angry. Not the precise measured sounds of the target practice that had woken her in the first place.

Sam shook his head, pinching t he bridge of his nose. He looked up at her, reigning in his emotions. "How are you doing?"

"Better." She answered honestly.

Sam's gaze bored into her, searching for a lie.

"I'm good Sam. I'll feel better when we're hunting something again." Jack shrugged. "I've lived through the worst. If I could get through that I can get through anything."

"Are you alright?" She asked Sam.

"I've been better." Sam replied. He poured himself a cup of coffee. "You want to know something?"

"Sure." Jack gave him a half smile, taking a seat at the small table.

Dean walked through the door then, looked past them, dropping his things on the ground with a careless hand.

"Hey Dean." Jack greeted him. He mumbled something that might have been hello or fuck off. Jack chose to believe it was the former.

"Got some supplies." John came through the door a moment after Dean, carrying a couple of paper bags under his arms. He looked them all over, looking as impatient and at a loss words as he'd been for days.

"What were you saying Sammy?" Jack asked turning her attention back to Sam.

"The dream," Sam started slowly. Dean's shoulders stiffened and John made a hasty exit, making himself as scarce as he could on the other side of the cabin. Dean picked up his bag and flopped down on the couch with practiced ease spreading the weapons out on the table in front of him. It was just Sam and Jack in t he little area now.

"It was nice, it wasn't dangerous, or scary or anything like real life." Sam continued. Jack nodded in understanding.

"But if that had been my life, I wouldn't have met Jess." Sam told Jack, very aware his father and his brother were listening.

"I wouldn't trade my time with her for that." Sam finished with a sad smile.

Jack drew in deep breath, sitting back in her chair. John cleared his throat, coming back in after a minute or two and started putting away the canned foods he'd picked up from a surplus store a few miles away.

"Sam you wanna go get the last bag." John said.

"Yes, sir." Sam said draining his cup and dropping it in the sink.

Jack sent John a significant look. He glanced at Dean, not comprehending for a second. She arched an eyebrow at him. John sighed. He didn't this silent language yet, but he knew get lost when he saw it. He chuckled to himself on the way out wondering how the girl managed to telegraph 'Get lost, Sir'.

Jack refilled her cup and poured one for Dean. Setting it down on the coffee table next to the guns he took out for cleaning, she noticed a splinter of wood, largish in size, scissoring just above Dean's eyebrow. She put down her own cup and quietly went to the front door, limping slowly down the stairs to pick up a small handful of snow.

Back inside Jack placed a cup holding the snow on the coffee table, next to a pair of scissors the used for stitching each other up. Jack pressed a chunk of snow to his wound.

"What the fuck?!" He flinched away from the icy touch.

"Your tree fought back." Jack said touching lightly on the piece of bark piercing Dean's skin.

"Oh." Was all Dean said. He turned his attention back to the Berretta in his hand, picking up the gun oil and a rag.

Jack pressed the ice back to his forehead till the skin turned pink from numbness before picking up the scissors. She worked the splinter out without impeding his work, finishing just as he was oiling the barrel. It wouldn't need stitches, she decided looking over the wound with an assessing eye. She told Dean as much with a touch to his head and a small smirk.

He looked up from the parts. Dean's eyes were bloodshot, raw and dark. Jack looked away her hand lingering on Dean's face and looked back at him letting everything show. The anger, the sadness, the fear and how worried she'd been over him and Sam. Only the two brothers ever got to see so deep. And vice versa.

"You giving your famous marriage another shot?" Sam asked mischievously when he walked in on the quiet moment. Dean shot him a look and Jack pulled her hand away slowly giving Sam a lecherous once over.

"Only if I can keep you too Sammy." She grinned. "You know in case we need a good divorce lawyer again."

"You only want me for my mind." Sam accused.

"I'm hurt you would think so highly of me." She said putting a hand to her chest in a wounded fashion.

John stood in the doorway watching Sam and Jack joke, he saw the smile tug at Dean's mouth as he listened while he worked. It was the first smile in too long. Jack got up gathering the bloody scissors and the cup holding the splinter in it and walked back to the kitchen, giving Sam a covert five behind his back as she passed him by. John grinned. They really knew how to take care of each other.

* * *

"Dad?" Dean asked while they ate canned beef stew for dinner.

"Umhmm?" John sounded with a mouthful of stew.

"The spell? Are we going to always be like this?" Dean asked picking at his food. All three heads turned towards him.

"I mean its like there's two sets of memories in my head now." Dean clarified at John's questioning look.

"I found the spell he used. No, the fake memories will fade soon. It'll be like a movie you saw once, not something you lived." John explained as best he could. Few people had lived through a spell like that. It usually took its victims in a matter of hours, Sam, Dean and Jack had lasted a couple of days. Nearly unprecedented.

They didn't talk much about their time in 'Normal Land', as Jack called it. They'd rallied tight together after that rocky first few days. If one was ready to talk about, John knew the other two would fall into step but till then they were tight lipped about their pain.

"Good…that's good." Dean nodded going to back to eating his food.

"You got any leads on this Rhodes guy?" Sam asked.

"I lost him but I think I know where we can go." John said looking within. He didn't want t o go back there. But the hunters were getting antsy, eager to get after the man who'd caused their own pain.

John looked from face to face. He didn't envy that man when they got their hands on him.

"Where are we going?" Jack asked.

"An old stomping ground of his." John answered vaguely.

"Dad" Dean said with a hint of that same stern no bullshit tone he'd used only a couple of weeks ago on the phone with John. When he'd basically told John he wasn't following his orders if it compromised the other two.

"Its a place called the Road House." John said, "A hunters bar."

**TBC……**

**AN: Muahahahaha. Lead into a future story there. And the epilogue is next cause I can never leave things on completely angsty notes. For HYPERLITE.HO, the fluffy Dean Jack moment you wanted, honey. :D **


	19. Chapter 19

**Epilogue**

John walked to the bar in the restaurant ordering a three fingers of whiskey. It had been Sam's idea to actually leave the cabin for a few hours. Jack and Dean jumped on it almost immediately, citing the fact that it was Christmas and they needed to get out of the two room hideout before they killed each other. Or John killed them, whichever came first. Plus, Sam and Jack had been working hard at Sam's training after getting their strength back. They needed to blow off some steam, Dean told John. Dean wanting to go out instead of staying cooped up from the world was a nice change back to their version of normalcy.

So he'd given in finding the only place open Christmas night. Just as John was starting to settle his nerves, letting himself start to relax, John felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Um sir, are those yours?" A waitress asked him, glancing nervously towards the back of the establishment.

"Not touching you can't do anything." John heard the words like a doom prophecy. He clenched his eyes tightly closed.

"Cut it out." Dean's growl cut through the air.

What did he do to deserve this?

**FIN.**

**AN: That's it for now. Planning a couple of one-shots in between this one and the next story. Namely, Sam's lessons, an extended Christmas fic fro this scene and a Jack vs. Cassie ficlet, just cause I really don't like Cassie. Lol. Oh and if you've never read my 'All These Things' drabble series, there are little extra scenes in that for t he Hunters series.**

**Happy Holidays, chickadees.**


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